"When you need it, I will trigger the Grey Tide plague, causing it to erupt from the Great Rift, spreading the plague of decay throughout the city, creating an extraordinary disaster."
An eerie voice ca from the darkness; the Shadow King couldn’t see its presence, but he knew that Devil was right here.
This Devil was the Sovereign of the wandering crossroads. He might not be able to control the entire Great Rift, but rely disturbing the changes of the wandering crossroads, gathering and surging the mist was no more than a simple task for him.
As simple as toppling a domino, they would fall one after the other, until they raised waves hundred ters high and storms sweeping the city.
He was extrely excited, "Ah, sounds really exciting, the land’s destruction again after the Fall of the Holy City."
"What I want is not a massacre," the Shadow King’s voice was hoarse, "I just want to use this to threaten the Order Bureau."
A voice ca from the darkness, "Your idea is too idealistic, you know, they won’t submit so easily... even if you put a sword to their throats."
The Shadow King did not respond, he gazed at the rolling Sea of Mist beneath the glass do, the figure of the astronaut floated before him.
The Shadow King knew very well, all of this was part of the astronaut’s plan, even his own retrieval of Xilin’s corpse was one of his plans.
This was an overt plot through and through, the Shadow King had no space to counter it.
No, let alone counter it, to this day the Shadow King still didn’t know what exactly the astronaut was trying to do. To avoid others from detecting his true purpose, the astronaut’s layout spanned decades, centuries, using various different objectives to mask the true purpose.
When you think you’ve seen through the astronaut’s conspiracy, it might just be another illusion he’s thrown at you.
"I will succeed, I will get Xilin’s corpse."
The Shadow King suddenly spoke, his voice utterly certain, like a fact cast in iron.
"Getting blindly confident, are you?"
The Devil’s voice sounded, with a hint of hidden laughter.
To him, the Shadow King at this mont seed on the verge of collapse under heavy pressure, able only to repeatedly mutter aningless words to encourage himself.
Mammon was very pleased.
The cruel reality was about to crush the Shadow King, and by then, he would only seek help from him; this was his territory, no one but himself could help the Shadow King.
"Unable to reverse reality, so starting to persuade yourself? Anyway, this is your last chance. Once negotiations end, whether the Order Bureau manages to make a deal with the King’s Secret Sword or not, no room will be left for the survival of the King’s Shield Guard."
The darkness began to squirm, shaping a constantly changing, sticky silhouette.
It walked towards the Shadow King, leaving a tar trail on the ground, as if carrying high temperature and strong corrosiveness, the ground emitted sharp bubbling sounds, burned smoke rose, leaving pitch-black scars on the surface.
Mammon ca before the Shadow King, raised a hand, and pressed it against that silver-white mask, the sound of corrosion intensified.
"Shadow King... no, Second Seat."
Mammon removed the silver-white mask, revealing the withered, decayed visage beneath.
"I rember your youthful appearance," Mammon said, "How handso you were... now look at you."
Mammon’s words were full of regret and pity, deliberately seeming to provoke the Second Seat’s ire, countless dense crimson eyes opened in the twisted silhouette, scrutinizing every inch of the Second Seat’s face.
"In the secret war, to retrieve Xilin’s corpse, you suffered severe injuries, the Alchemy Matrix is filled with Soul Scars, on the verge of collapse."
After reaching the tier of Negative Power User, physical injuries could hardly directly kill these High Tier Condensers, not to ntion the Second Seat, who was then at the tier of a Seeker of Glory.
The only thing left able to cause them significant damage was transcending the Rectangular Soul Critical, harming the Alchemy Matrix. In causing damage to the Alchemy Matrix, not only would it weaken their power and cause disruption, it would, due to the Alchemy Matrix adhering to the soul, further affect the soul, even deforming it.
The Second Seat’s Alchemy Matrix was ridden with holes, filled with countless Soul Scars, even the soul was thus shattered, on the brink of destruction.
The decay of the soul directly reflected on the body’s appearance, unveiling the silver mask, the once handso face had vanished, leaving only a visage akin to a dried corpse.
The Second Seat’s lips were entirely shriveled and shrunk, exposing most of the gums, the tip of the nose seed carved off by a sharp blade, eyes deeply sunken, without eyelids to veil them, the entwined flesh clearly visible, the throat covered in varying sized holes, from which hoarse breathing sounded.
"You’re too heavily injured, your soul is in continuous decline, it’s a miracle you are alive."
Mammon praised, pressing his pitch-black fingers onto the Second Seat’s chest, emitting hissing scorching sounds.
"I know that past, what truly turned you into this wasn’t the Order Bureau, but the First Seat."
The Second Seat murmured, "You were always spying on us."
"I couldn’t help it, my gluttonous kin was too powerful; she didn’t just control the Sect of Sim-Corrupt, but even secretly controlled the Kagader Empire; my God, it’s so worriso."
Mammon continued, "You failed to retrieve Xilin’s corpse and were assassinated by the First Seat at the outskirts of Oath City: Opus... he didn’t manage to kill you, but the Soul Scars left were sufficient to gradually wear you down."
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