"Is this the purpose of Red Dog’s visit?"
Lebius flipped through the files from the Decision Room, his brows furrowed, and anger simred in his gaze.
The office was only occupied by Lebius and Geoffrey. As Lebius’s old friend, Geoffrey distinctly felt Lebius’s fury. It had been a long ti since he’d seen Lebius so incensed, as if flas were about to burst from him.
Lebius asked, "Do the others know about this?"
"Not yet," Geoffrey shook his head, "The Decision Room isn’t planning to announce it for now. They’re preparing to negotiate with the King’s Secret Sword, but the talks are expected to last several months."
"Negotiate?" Lebius’s voice rose, an unusual loss of composure for him, "What is the Decision Room thinking?"
"I don’t know. I was shocked when I heard about it," Geoffrey added, "I even thought that the King’s Secret Sword was planning to start a war with us and this was just a casual pretext."
"The truth is, they’re not joking. Those bastards are serious; they’ve even drafted the contracts."
Lebius took a deep breath, forcing his agitated heart to calm down, quickly regaining his usual composure and calm deanor.
Seeing him like this, Geoffrey also breathed a sigh of relief. Don’t be fooled by Lebius’s calm and rational appearance now; he was a hot-headed youth in his younger days. It’s this lengthy experience that taught Lebius caution and restraint.
"How are Bologue and the others?"
Lebius tried to change the topic to ease his mood, "I haven’t seen them since the Reality Shattering event."
After the Reality Shattering event ended, the Zongge Orchestra suddenly vanished, even the Joyful Garden disappeared from the Order Bureau’s observation. Other hostile organizations also surprisingly behaved, allowing the Order Bureau so rare peaceful days.
It seed as if order had truly descended upon the world... No, order is temporary; greater chaos lurks in the shadows.
During this ti, Bologue and the others’ job was routine patrols. Due to Bologue’s outstanding performance, Lebius trusted him a lot, delegating many task reports for Bologue to handle, lightening Lebius’s workload and sparing Bologue from frequent trips to the Order Bureau.
"The sa as always, dutiful," Geoffrey chuckled, "Now the security of the Great Rift is much better than before."
Lebius said, "I’ve never believed that reliance on force alone can fundantally change the order of a region."
"I think so too, but Bologue doesn’t think so much," Geoffrey said, "As long as everyone fears him and holds him in awe, it’s enough. A simple and straightforward truth. By the way, now more and more people are calling him Evil Spirit, turning him into a kind of urban legend."
Upon hearing this, Lebius couldn’t help but chuckle. They too were once part of urban legends.
"Then I’ll leave first. Other leaders are also discussing these matters. Everyone’s battle spirit is quite fierce, and I need to find a way to calm them down."
Geoffrey said while getting up to leave, but before completely exiting the room, he turned around and spoke to Lebius.
"Stay calm, Lebius. Don’t let Red Dog interfere with you."
Lebius lowered his gaze, silent. Seeing this, Geoffrey didn’t say more. He knew the hatred between Lebius and Red Dog, and he didn’t believe a few words from him could dissuade Lebius, yet he couldn’t do nothing.
Standing in the empty hallway, Geoffrey couldn’t help but sigh. Confronting Lebius’s anger, he felt a hint of envy toward Lebius. To this day, Lebius still harbors hatred for the past, while Geoffrey seems reconciled as if even anger wouldn’t make him as furiously persistent as Lebius.
Thinking of this, Geoffrey began to bla himself, wondering if he was weak, unable even to maintain pure, intense feelings like hatred.
In the office, Lebius remained silent for a long ti, feeling a bit of a headache, faintly hearing Belphegor’s insane whispers. The Devil’s power sensed Lebius’s intense desire, almost burning through flesh and blood.
Finally, Lebius hesitated no longer, making the decision he’d grappled with for so long.
He picked up the phone and dialed, and after several beeps, a familiar voice sounded.
"So it seems you’ve decided?"
A woman’s voice ca from the receiver, with bustling and clamoring in the background. It sounded like she was answering the phone in a workshop, and Lebius could even imagine the sparks erging amidst sharp noises.
"I’m certain, I’m ready."
"Hmm... Don’t mind the trouble. Let confirm again," the woman said, "Have you really decided to take that step? I’ve seen your files... even the data from the secret war period. Your condition isn’t great."
Lebius said, "I’m certain, Belli, stop wasting words. Do you think I’m the kind of person who hesitates?"
"Aren’t you?"
Belli’s mildly amused words left Lebius speechless. If he really wasn’t hesitant, he would have taken that step decisively many years ago.
"Alright, I understand, the docunts are being sent, you need so ti to adjust your body and soul, then the ritual will proceed."
Belli hung up the phone, and at the sa ti, a rumbling sound echoed from the capsule pipeline above Lebius’s head, followed by a transport capsule ejected from the air valve.
He retrieved the docunts inside, it was an application form pending Lebius’s signature.
Lebius read the words aloud.
"Lebius Lovisa’s application for ascension to Defender..."
...
When the whole world was in turmoil, the Great Rift beca one of the rare sanctuaries, amidst the heavy haze, this gray, dilapidated secret world still operated according to its original rules.
The Demons hid in the corners, their eyes fervently watching the living, craving their souls, yet nowadays the Demons have beco adept at restraining themselves. Unless driven by unbearable hunger, none would choose to strike, they all feared the creature known as Evil Spirit, as if he was omnipresent, constantly watching their backs.
In the narrow corridor built along the cliff, a Demon waited in the crevice, like a predator, awaiting travelers erging from the mist.
This Demon had been hungry for many days, Bulimia Nervosa tornted him relentlessly, as if countless maggots had grown deep within his intestines, vigorously gnawing at his flesh, draining his blood dry, he could even hear faint noises emanating from his body, the sound of maggots chewing his bones.
The hunger was unbearable, even knowing the existence of Evil Spirit, he decided to take the risk. The endless agony was more intolerable than the thought of being killed by the Evil Spirit.
The rusty corridor emitted a rustling sound, followed by footsteps approaching from the other end of the mist, soone was getting closer, and the Demon held his breath, eyes filled with uncontrollable excitent.
The sound grew closer, he silently raised the short knife covered in filth, soon two shadows erged from the mist, one taller, one shorter, then their figures appeared in the Demon’s sight.
Leading was a strangely shaped figure, draped in robes that almost entirely concealed his body, like a ghost walking out of the fog, the other was a Knight clad in Iron Armor, such armor was rare these days, let alone worn by soone traversing within the Great Rift.
The Demon instinctively sensed sothing ominous about the two, as he hesitated to launch an attack, he suddenly realized the robed figure had vanished.
A faint sound of wind whispered in his ears, and the taste of rust surged in the Demon’s throat.
The robes fluttered in the wind, and a delicate silver-white mask appeared in the darkness, like a phantom erging from the night, and that was the last sight in the Demon’s eyes.
The Shadow King withdrew his hand, smoothly dragging the Demon out from the crevice, the corpse with a pierced chest fell onto the corridor, blood dripping into the endless Sea of Mist below.
Pale blue starlight erged from the Demon’s corpse, they penetrated one by one into the Shadow King’s body, bringing him a sense of soul satisfaction. The Third Seat stood as usual behind the Shadow King, already accustod to the Shadow King’s brief pause after killing a Demon.
"Red Dog has arrived at the Order Bureau, hasn’t he?" the Shadow King asked, "What do you suppose he’s co for?"
"Overlord Xilin’s corpse."
The Third Seat replied, "Besides that, I can’t think of any other reason for the King’s Secret Sword to have dealings with the Order Bureau."
Upon hearing this, a hoarse laugh erged from beneath the mask, seemingly mocking everything, the Shadow King did not continue the topic, but extended his hand, trying to capture the pale blue dots rging into him one by one.
"It’s truly beautiful," the Shadow King said, "You can’t see this, can you?"
The Third Seat nodded, "Unfortunately, I cannot witness this strange power firsthand."
The Shadow King shook his head and explained, "It’s not strange, it’s just the Protection from the Devil."
"Protection?"
The Third Seat puzzled, it was the first ti the Shadow King explained the bizarre power he possessed, yet if it was from the Devil, the Third Seat had never seen such Protection.
"It’s normal that you’ve never seen it, that Devil is adept at concealing himself, preferring to conspire in the shadows rather than stand in the sunlight, hence few receive his Protection, and even fewer realize it without the Protector’s voluntary exposure."
The Shadow King consud all the Soul Shards, using them to nd his shattered, empty heart, the brief satisfaction allowed him to escape the agony of emptiness montarily.
After a feast, the Shadow King and the Third Seat continued forward, one Demon far from satisfying the void within the Shadow King, he needed more souls, after slaying many Demons, satisfaction was maintained.
Yet this satisfaction did not bring joy to the Shadow King, he whispered the curse belonging to him.
"The more you desire sothing, the harder it is to obtain."
The Shadow King loathed yet desired, but had no power to refuse, he needed this Protection to extend his life, this wicked, Devil-given shelter.
Protection·Soul Sucking and Essence Stealing.
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