Very soon, Bologue realized why, it was that pitch-black armor.
The armor was forged from so unknown alchemy tal, its exterior coated with layers of thick black paint, appearing ancient and steady. The front chest armor and back armor were closely linked by several broad and thick steel plates to ensure defense capability. The shoulder guards on the sides and the carved belt were crafted from finely processed tal materials.
Looking at it as a whole, it was entirely wrapped in armor stitched together from multiple pieces, with soft leather padding at the seams. The front of the chest armor was covered with a layer of black luxurious satin, while the hem consisted of thin and pliable iron chains that could bend with high flexibility, clattering as they moved forward.
A coarse breathing sound emanated from beneath the skull faceplate adorned with a spiked crown.
With his breathing, the dim glow of ether floated on the surface of the armor. Bologue realized this was an alchemy armor, and it was this armor that granted the Shadow King such terrifying power.
Bologue recalled a previous conversation he had with Serey.
"You undead have been around for so long, surely your alchemy matrix is quite outdated, right? So even if you possess the power of the Seeker of Glory, it’s just for show."
Faced with Bologue’s skepticism, Serey shook his head, "Our alchemy matrix is indeed very outdated, but we can make up for it elsewhere."
"Such as?"
"Such as an alchemy armor."
"Armor can be made into alchemy armant too?" It was the first ti Bologue had heard of this.
"Of course it can, but the cost to make it is extrely expensive, and very few people do it," Serey continued, "but the effect is also very significant. As long as multiple alchemy matrices are engraved on the alchemy armor, turning the armor into ’secret energy,’ the wearer becos a source of ether supply."
Bologue roughly understood Serey’s aning. The power of the undead would fall behind the tis, but with the changing era, newly forged armor could make up for all this.
"I’ve also seen so people who received incurable injuries, so they wear specially made alchemy armors, relying on them to sustain life, unable to take them off for the rest of their lives."
Bologue doubted, "Do you also own such armor that chases the power of the ti?"
Serey did not directly answer Bologue’s question, he just gave a aningful smile.
Bologue since then understood the specialty of alchemy armor, which is a kind of large alchemy armant, similar yet completely different from alchemy puppets like the Silver Knight. Alchemy armor grants comprehensive enhancents to the wearer. Now, the Shadow King is relying on this alchemy armor to suppress the effects brought by soul scars and unleash the power of the Seeker of Glory.
"Bologue Lazarus."
The Shadow King called out Bologue’s na, and the molten lava beneath his feet cooled into solid stone, supporting his iron boots.
Sharp spikes rose from his shoulders, arm armor, and greaves, appearing like dark blades silently waiting. The embossed patterns on the armor were concise and clear, depicting a skeletal head with wings, symbolizing the impending arrival of the Death God.
In raging flas, an abyss-like blackness enveloped the Shadow King. He seed to reappear as a Death God returning from the world of the dead, exuding a thick air of mystery. His entire body was pitch black, without a visible seam, like a solid sealed shell enveloping the wearer.
Bologue’s pressure suddenly increased. He didn’t expect to face the Shadow King so directly, and it seed the Shadow King had co looking for him, was it to protect this flesh creation?
There was no chance of victory in direct combat. Bologue imdiately gave up on gripping his sword axe, reaching behind him to grab the hilt of his signal gun. At this mont, he could only rely on the Fourth Seat and others.
But could the Fourth Seat really surpass the current Shadow King? Under the blessing of alchemy armor, Bologue was unsure how long the Shadow King could maintain this state, but in re gestures, it should be enough to kill a Defender.
That scorching Fire Sword was enough to obliterate everything.
Just as the tide-like thoughts surged in Bologue’s mind, the Shadow King spoke again, uttering words Bologue least expected.
"Step aside."
The Shadow King said, "Move aside, Bologue."
Bologue was stunned in place, then he sensed a chilling aura coming from behind him.
All the blood and muscles in his body seed frozen, so terrifying entity seed to be walking from behind him, slowly approaching.
Bologue actually thought the Shadow King ca for him... The Shadow King ca for that thing behind him.
The Shadow King swung out the Fire Sword toward Bologue’s rear.
A column of high-temperature fire surged like a blazing sharp sword, cutting through all obstacles and aggressively lunging forward. Bologue forcibly restrained his instincts and maneuvered to the side, evading the deadly stream of fire.
Dazzling light rushed upon thick rock, encountering what seed to be an impenetrable barrier. The blazing flas swirled and flew upward. The barrier did not deter it; instead, it intensified its burning desire. Flas entwined with the formless barrier, erupting and igniting, creating sparks resembling dark clouds.
The Seeker of Glory brazenly twisted the laws of reality. Under the intense flas, the crystals in the rock lted, and moisture evaporated, forming a highly viscous liquid substance, sticky like honey.
Massive lava clumped and dripped, bringing down a deadly fiery rain.
A large amount of gas also escaped from the reddened rocks, forming a violent eruption. The gases under high pressure roared upward with the fire stream, producing loud noises and causing intense vibrations in the surrounding environnt.
Bologue felt like he was at the mouth of an impending volcanic eruption. Scalding lava and violently erupting gases spread crazily within the ruins, cracking even the solid rocks. Fire streams drilled upward, filling every crevice with crimson light.
In this fiercely burning world, it seed no power could match it.
Until that power descended, breaking the Shadow King’s absolute rule over reality.
Bologue only felt all light, sound, vibrations... all the sensory perceptions of the external world quickly fading away. In the endless void, only that strolling figure remained.
He wore a scarlet robe, the patterns on the robe seed embroidered with golden threads, glittering. His face was obscured by the shadow of a hood, enveloped in thick darkness.
His appearance seed summoned from the darkness, filled with a mysterious ritualistic and evil aura. Although he showed no apparent aggression, the unease and fear he brought were irresistible.
The darkness beneath the hood was deep as an abyss, seemingly capable of devouring one’s soul.
He stopped not far away, maintaining an appropriate distance from both Bologue and the Shadow King, neither too close nor too distant.
The intangible oppressive presence spread like a tide. Bologue felt as if trapped in an inescapable pitfall.
As if foreseeing his fate, the Shadow King raised the Fire Sword and gently said, "I knew you’d rather kill for yourself than retrieve Xilin’s corpse."
He then asked rhetorically, "Am I right, First Seat?"
A cold, chilling smile echoed.
The First Seat lifted a slender, twisted great scythe embedded with a ghastly skull, like the Death God from stories.
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