Endless Debt Chapter 543 - 56: The Elders

When Bologue stepped out of the darkness and his vision regained clarity, a strange sense of nausea welled up in his heart, a feeling both familiar and peculiar.

Church beside him shared the sa sensation, his face becoming sowhat pale, while only Fuen maintained his usual calm deanor, with a faint smile on his face.

"Is this a... Curved Path Gate?"

Bologue imdiately realized what had just happened. What they had passed through was not an ordinary door, but a Curved Path Gate.

The Key of the Crooked Path can open a door to a fixed location from anywhere, extrely convenient. The Curved Path Gate, being different, is point-to-point fixed; it is much more stable than the Key of the Crooked Path and can operate for a long ti.

What was hidden deep within the castle was rely a Curved Path Gate. Only Fuen knew their exact location now. They might still be within the Fortress of the Morning Wind, or they might have long left the castle grounds and been in so unknown region of the Wind Source Highlands.

"Just so simple tricks,"

Fuen’s voice was gentle, afraid of waking the ghosts sleeping here.

"According to records, King Solomon’s Holy City of Remongedon also had many similar designs. Curved Path Gates mixed with ordinary gates, unknown to those who enter impulsively, would step into an endless, trap-filled maze."

Speaking of the Holy City, Fuen’s gaze turned obsessive, "I have been to the Abandoned Land, looked upon the ruins of that city from the Desperate Outpost... what a beautiful stretch of ruins."

"I have always thought the Holy City was a miracle constructed by the Alchemists... no, by the Extraordinary World, and yet it was destroyed just like that."

Fuen made no effort to hide his admiration for King Solomon, and the great creations of his, "One of my life’s great regrets is being born too late, yearning to witness that city’s existence with my own eyes, even if it’s witnessing its destruction by the flas of war."

"I witnessed it with my own eyes," Bologue nodded in agreent, "It was indeed an enchanting city, even when I was on its outskirts and it was already engulfed in flas."

Fuen’s gaze was envious, "Oh? Then you really were fortunate."

To this, Bologue said nothing more. That city which fascinated Fuen was the very beginning of Bologue’s dark fate.

"Speaking of which, Serey was also there during the Fall of the Holy City."

Suddenly, Fuen’s words stirred Bologue’s emotions, halting his forward steps, his azure eyes fixed intently on Fuen’s back.

"By then, the Dawn War was long over, and Serey had long been residing at the Undying Club, whiling away his extended years; for entertainnt, he observed the Fall of the Holy City and witnessed the destruction of the Holy City firsthand."

Fuen raised both hands and gently pushed aside the air, his tone light.

"A flash of light."

A light that shattered the boundary between heaven and earth, summoning sulfur and fire, turning all invaders into pillars of salt standing tall.

Bologue asked further, "And then what?"

"There was nothing after that. Serey never ntioned anything beyond that. I had also investigated related records within the Order Bureau, but just like soone was deliberately concealing them, I found nothing."

Fuen suddenly stopped walking and turned to look at Bologue, "The strangest part is, even after becoming the Patriarch of the Clarks, possessing authority and power, I still have no knowledge of any related information."

"I sound like a rather unsuccessful Patriarch, don’t I?"

Fuen said self-mockingly, "There’s nothing I can do, being rely a spokesperson of the Clarks. The real decisions still rest with them."

Bologue soon realized who the "them" Fuen ntioned were.

As they delved deeper into the Wind Cellar, the whistling wind behind the walls grew clearer, a sense of fullness surged within Bologue from inside out, even though he hadn’t channeled any Secret Energy, his eyes involuntarily glowed with Ether, causing the Alchemy Matrix on his body to light up as well.

It wasn’t just him; Church experienced the sa.

The bright Alchemy Matrix largely covered Church’s entire body, the patterns were not complex, many areas had large blank spaces. Based on the complexity of the Alchemy Matrix, Bologue judged that Church should also be of the Prayer Believer Tier.

As for Fuen, he differed from the two, with Ether submitting to his command, no signs of the Initial Activation Phenonon on his skin.

Defender? Or Seeker of Glory?

Bologue couldn’t ascertain the extent of Fuen’s power, but he was sure that Fuen’s strength far surpassed that of a Negative Power User.

"The Ether concentration here is sowhat too high."

Church waved his hand, as if stirring the surface of water, ripples of shimring light appeared out of nowhere, then subsided, and dissipated.

The high concentration of Ether filled the space, causing both Bologue and Church to involuntarily resonate, passively awakening the Alchemy Matrix.

The gentle sound of flowing water echoed, an indented water channel existed on the edge of the bricks, golden liquid Ether flowed through it, disappearing into the darkness, beyond the wind, a constant dripping sound joined in, creating an unending drizzle.

Bologue spoke, "Maintaining such a high Ether environnt for a long ti must be quite a burden for the Clarks, right?"

"This place is ’natural’."

Fuen explained, "Just like the Angry Sea, this is also an Ether Vortex Point, discovered many years ago by the Clarks, and transford into its current state. With a simple overlay of an Alchemy Matrix, it can self-sustain indefinitely, with its lifespan calculated in millennia."

Like a vortex on a water surface, nurous natural vortex points exist in this world, vast amounts of Ether gather independently, forming supernatural phenona similar to the Angry Sea.

"I hope the following scenes won’t frighten you."

Fuen spoke as he pushed open another door, revealing the heart of the Clarks’ house to the two of them.

Canyin light showered from above, the Ether concentration here reached its peak, golden droplets continuously precipitated from the air, floating like dust, converging into raindrops that fell, creating a perpetual cycle, raising an eternal rain in this enclosed space.

The raindrops reacted with nothing, even falling on the towering layers of bookshelves without soaking the books, sliding off as if in contact with a smooth mirror.

This place appeared to be a massive collection room, with layered bookshelves on the outer rim, while below lay nurous collectibles, most of them Alchemy Armants, with tallic surfaces glowing faintly. Many priceless artworks filled the gaps between heaps of coins; if Bologue wasn’t mistaken, they were Mammon Coins.

Yet Bologue was not drawn away by this wealth; his gaze settled on the true treasures in the Wind Cellar, the multitude of books sealed on the shelves, which dissected history into countless fragnts, assembled here once more.

It seed the Wind Cellar was aware of the visitors, as the stacked bookshelves rapidly extended, encircling like the tiers of an arena.

This was a Void Realm, with its space rapidly expanding, revealing its true appearance before them.

As the space fully unfolded, Bologue noticed amidst the bookshelves, many chairs placed sporadically, each occupied by a figure. They wore Golden Masks, with crimson robes draped over their bodies, outlining their silhouettes.

They were withered and desiccated corpses, like mummies decayed over ti, they should be dead, but in this high Ether environnt, their flesh had broken free from the mortal coil, visible from the exposed slender arms.

Their fragile skin resembled alabaster, devoid of any blood hue, with only flowing golden brilliance beneath. Over the long years, their bodies had undergone extensive Etherealization, transforming into pure energy, and their current forms were rely manifestations of Ether.

Through this almost cheating thod, they escaped Death God’s scythe, lingering in the shadows of ti, yet rely lingering, unable to fully Etherealize, retaining mortal portions within their bodies.

The Etherealized parts were unaffected by ti, but the mortal fragnts would eventually wither and die, marking their end. Fortunately, this high Ether environnt could indefinitely delay that demise.

Fuen stood with hands crossed in front, positioned before Church and Bologue, patiently waiting. Minutes later, Ether’s glow ignited under the Golden Masks, the withered bodies slowly lifted their heads, gaze emanating from all directions, focusing on Fuen.

"Elders..."

Fuen softly spoke, the sound touching Ether, reverberating like thunder.

The Elders nodded with slight inclination, their chests and throats showing no movent, yet an ancient voice erged from thin air.

"Good..."

The Void Realm of the Wind Cellar began to contract, and the expanded, stacked bookshelves consolidated once again, along with the vanishing silhouettes of the Elders.

Everything dissipated like a waking illusion, but after the hallucination, a bright light shone from a corner of the bookshelf, as if guiding everyone.

Fuen stepped forward, retrieving the heavy book from the shelves, placing it on the old table, wiping off the dust on its surface. The words "Dawn Oath" appeared before their eyes.