Xilin’s departure marked the end of this bloody battle. Bologue’s tense body finally relaxed as he collapsed to the ground, his chest heaving violently. Every minute and second of the fight seed interminable to him, as life and death continuously intertwined.
Nesanel got up to check on the injuries of Geoffrey and Lebius. Both had suffered severe wounds to varying degrees; Geoffrey’s eyes were filled with blood, and it was unclear how many bones were broken. Lebius was in a much more pitiful state than his partner.
Even though Lebius had ascended to a Defender, the high-intensity battle nearly broke his spine. He lay on the ground, paralyzed, with his limbs twisted at odd angles, leaving only the sound of shallow breathing.
As the others busied themselves with retreating, Palr strained to lift his head. Others might not recognize the voice, but Palr was different. That voice was too familiar to him.
Palr squinted at the tiny figure in the sky, "F...father?"
Fuen didn’t hear Palr’s words. He stepped through one updraft of air after another, ascending even higher. He gazed down at the giant tumultuous do of energy that roared above the Great Rift, then spread his arms as if conducting an orchestra.
A blazing white light rose in Fuen’s eyes, and a radiant Alchemy Matrix shone from his skin, climbing up his neck and covering most of his face.
Fuen slowly lifted his arms, as if to raise the earth itself.
Palr felt the temperature around him drop a few degrees, followed by a steadily increasing wind. Nesanel shouldered Geoffrey with one arm and tucked Lebius under the other.
"They need urgent dical attention. I’ll take them back first."
With those fleeting words, Nesanel unleashed the power of both a Seeker of Glory and the Extre Realm, vanishing in an instant and leaving only a spiral hole piercing through the mist, indicating his trajectory.
"Take so of us too!"
Palr shouted hastily, though it was clear his words couldn’t catch up with Nesanel’s speed.
By this point, in the heart of the battlefield, only Bologue, Palr, and Aimou remained. It was normal for Nesanel not to take them; they were among the least injured in this extraordinary conflict.
Bologue needed no further comnt. As an Undead, even decapitation had little effect on him, making him only appear rather grueso. Then there was Aimou, who relied on Heart Overlapping Shadow. She moved through the battlefield cracks like a sly thief, and with the protection of the Steel Body, even if her arm broke, a simple repair would restore it.
Palr... Lucky Palr, his damned Blessing finally seed to have taken effect. He always managed to miss the most perilous monts in the conflict and appear at crucial points, earning himself so battle rit.
Only Palr himself didn’t see it that way.
Palr plopped down onto the cracked, dusty ground, clutching his heart, feeling the turmoil of his blood.
"G...God... We just got involved in a clash among the Seekers of Glory, even witnessed the death of one."
Initially excited, Palr soon felt fearful; without Nesanel’s protection, a casual strike from the Age-Stealing Mist would have been enough to erase Palr. Even if not dead, Palr’s body would rapidly age.
Palr could even imagine what Fuen would say upon seeing his aged self.
"Now you finally look like your father."
Fuen would definitely say that.
Swallowing hard, Palr blinked forcefully, montarily setting aside the death of the First Seat, which was a massive blow to the King’s Secret Sword, to think about sothing else first.
"So... I didn’t see wrong, did I? It wasn’t an illusion caused by Red Dog, or the power of the First Seat, right?"
Palr looked at the severely wounded Bologue and asked in a very serious tone.
"Did Xilin... co back to life?"
Bologue nodded with difficulty.
Overlord Xilin was revived, or rather, he had never died.
A storm raged in Bologue’s mind; for a mont, he found it difficult to sort through his thoughts, his head in a daze, quietly waiting for ti to pass.
Seeing Bologue unresponsive, Palr felt his own pressure reach its limit, and this guy had a habit of blurting out nonsense when under extre stress.
"Bologue, expert, say sothing!"
Palr pleaded, giving Bologue a push. Seeing him in that half-dead state, Palr steeled himself and spoke to Aimou.
"Why don’t we speed it up?"
"Speed what up?" Aimou was confused.
Palr gritted his teeth, making a throat-slitting gesture.
"Huh?"
Aimou still didn’t quite understand Palr’s aning. At the mont, everyone was the sa, their thoughts completely shattered by Xilin’s return, standing dazed like the living dead.
In comparison, the King’s Secret Sword’s plot exposure and full collapse seed not to matter much.
Bologue only felt a storm approaching, one that stirred everyone’s will, dragging them into a roaring gale, crushing all life...
But in fact, a storm was indeed approaching.
The surrounding winds grew stronger, stirring the persistent mist.
Bologue felt sowhat better, having ascended to a Negative Power User; he wasn’t so easily killed now and had ample ti to let his body heal.
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