A mass of black smoke suddenly rises, like an evil aura rolled up from the Abyss of Hell, suffocating, as the footsteps draw near, the blurred silhouette gradually becos clear.
Everyone felt an inexplicable pressure, as if facing an enemy from myth.
The scarlet robe is shattered, and the armor beneath it has beco rusty and covered in cracks, with flesh slowly writhing in the gaps, like vines spread across it, so growing out of the armor, forming lumps and nodules on the tal surface, with blood trickling down.
Bologue looks at his face; under that hood, there is only murky darkness.
The stench of blood perates the air, and at the sa ti, Bologue, like a hunting dog, discerns the familiar frenzy of the Devil from this scent.
"First Seat..."
A deep, hoarse voice erges from Bologue’s throat, as if it exhausts all his strength.
The mont this voice reaches others’ ears, the boiling blood quickly cools, as if icy claws have seized their hearts.
The First Seat, silent and unobtrusive, is like the incarnation of the Death God, gripping a Skull Scythe, its blade sared with fresh blood, hanging with skulls.
He steps forward slowly, a sticky sound emanating from beneath his feet. The First Seat seems to be treading on so fleshly creation, like dense, bloated worms, squishing them into bursting, spreading filth everywhere.
True wind noises emanate from the mist, like the howling of the deceased, a chorus of ten thousand ghosts howling, piercing the hearts of people, terrifying them.
The appearance of the First Seat causes the battlefield to completely cool down, his presence alone enough to decide the outco, unshakeable by anyone.
Bologue attempts to lift the Vengeful Saw Axe, but this ti the axe blade evokes no agitation, as if the rage spirit residing within has also fallen into a cold slumber with the arrival of the First Seat.
The tension of the mind reaches a limit, a faint silver light draws Bologue’s attention.
His gaze falls upon the Skull Scythe, among the stacked skulls there is a head wearing a broken silver mask, the mask half-cracked, the flesh underneath completely dried, leaving only pale bone.
Bologue recognizes that mask, softly saying, "Shadow King..."
The First Seat seems to notice Bologue’s voice, raises his hand and removes the Shadow King’s skull, then throws it toward the center of the battlefield.
The skull rolls to Bologue’s feet; observing closely, he can confirm it is indeed the skull of the Shadow King, the Second Seat.
The Shadow King is dead, slain in the decisive battle beneath the Great Rift.
"Give it... to ..."
The First Seat raises his hand, an armored hand extends from beneath his sleeves, his fingertips long and sharp, like daggers.
His purpose is clear, pointing towards the Iron Coffin behind everyone, where Xilin’s body is stored.
Strange laughter arises, Red Dog stretches his body, his gaze filled with mockery, they won this ga... that lady always wins.
Red Dog knows no one can surpass her, not the King of First Seals, not the King of Slaughter, and certainly not the Second Seat.
This world is the Devil’s chessboard, and the pieces cannot hope at all.
In the silence, Bologue speaks first, he never lacks courage to resist, although the Vengeful Saw Axe extinguished, Bologue still fuels his inner rage, and declares aloud.
"I... refuse!"
Bologue always acts before speaking; similarly, he is not rely a fool waving an axe.
Chains swiftly extend, fiercely swinging the Vengeful Saw Axe; during its high-speed motion, fragnts of stone obey Bologue’s command, gathering on the axe until forming a gigantic stone to smash towards the First Seat.
The First Seat simply stands still, dense white fog rolls out from beneath his robes, as if the darkness inside his hood is a tunnel to another world.
As Bologue saw within the Great Rift, the fog possesses the sa corrosiveness as the Plague of Decay, enveloping the giant stone instantly and begins devouring madly, before hitting the First Seat, the stone turns into swirling smoke and dissipates.
The Vengeful Saw Axe breaks through the fog, fiercely slicing towards the First Seat; the First Seat seems sowhat surprised, given his power, even weapons should decay under the fog’s corrosion.
Supported by Bologue’s Ether, the Deceitful Snake Scale Liquid continuously reproduces, offsetting the fog’s erosion, leaving the Vengeful Saw Axe unaffected in the mist.
The axe blade brushes past the First Seat’s robes, swiftly retracting, and at this mont, Bologue, initially raging, suddenly turns his back and sprints away from the First Seat.
Bologue is not a fool, but an expert.
From the first mont the First Seat appeared, Bologue knew this Extraordinary Conflict Order Bureau was already defeated, now all he can do is minimize the losses.
For example, fleeing with the Iron Coffin.
"What are you standing around for!"
Bologue shouts to the others, he extracts Aimou’s Ether, squandering it freely.
The earth trembles violently again, shattered by the Plague of Decay, the geological structure within the Great Rift is already filled with fissures, and Bologue aims to tear it apart completely.
Cracks spread across the earth, then rapidly widen. Bologue touches the Iron Coffin, layers of Deceitful Snake Scale Liquid wrap around it; though heavy, Bologue strives to command the rocks and chains, retreating with difficulty carrying the Iron Coffin.
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