In the dim room, along with the projector running, the film from the Eye of the Chronicler was cast onto the screen, and everything Church experienced ca into view for several people.
From Church’s first-person perspective, Bologue saw Church silently infiltrate the depths of Fog Abyss Fortress, where he found so peculiar things.
Those stacked, one after the other, were sealed gas tanks. Church tried detonating one, and the deadly gas instantly leaked out.
The image was sowhat blurred and distorted, but Ivan still managed to deduce the nature of the gas from its impact on the surrounding environnt.
"The Plague of Decay..."
Ivan gasped. To think such things were inside Fog Abyss Fortress, and so many sealed gas tanks. Once fully detonated, it would be a catastrophic decay.
Church’s subsequent actions plunged everyone into silence.
Given their understanding of Church, he could have just been a bystander and left with the intelligence, but after a mont of hesitation, Church made a choice that was completely contrary to his nature.
Church detonated these sealed gas tanks, trying his best to destroy this Plague of Decay, ensuring it would forever remain there, without a trace leaking out.
Watching the dispersing mist, Bologue finally understood where those strange mists he encountered amidst successive battles originated from.
Church destroyed most of the Plague of Decay, and a chain reaction occurred between them, filling the narrow space with deadly gas, making Church struggle to traverse the poisonous mist with his Ethereal Amount rapidly depleting, making it difficult to maintain the ability of walking in the Narrow Space.
If it were just this, Church wouldn’t have been so severely injured, but at that mont, another Ethereal Radiance erged.
The Eye of the Chronicler can only convey images; it can’t replicate the pressure of Ether, but Bologue still managed to judge the enemy’s Tier from the degree of reality distortion.
Negative Power User.
While destroying the Plague of Decay, Church also faced the pursuit of the Negative Power User. After a series of battles, Church was finally wounded and fled Fog Abyss Fortress.
Upon leaving the Great Rift, from the shaking images, several people could feel Church’s dire state; he could have returned to a secret stronghold, places with urgent dical supplies abundant inside Opus, but Church aimlessly wandered instead.
"By this ti, his consciousness gradually faded, becoming just a walking corpse."
Ivan’s voice was hoarse; he understood well what kind of power walking in the Narrow Space was.
"Where is he heading?"
Bologue pondered, quickly realizing that the surrounding street scenes looked familiar until that flower shop gradually appeared at the street’s end.
The screen went black.
Ivan turned, seeing Palr had sohow risen, removed the Eye of the Chronicler, and cut off the scene here.
"What are you doing?"
Facing Ivan’s inquiry, Palr indifferently replied, "We’ve got enough information."
Knowing this wouldn’t dispel Ivan’s doubts, Palr added, "That’s Church’s little secret, unrelated to this event."
Ivan’s gaze was heavy, but eventually, he agreed with Palr’s action, releasing a deep, murky breath.
"So, the King’s Shield Guards have prepared a large amount of the Plague of Decay, harboring an attack... attack on the second negotiation," Ivan said.
"It’s more than that; they’ve also struck a deal with the Tyrant," Bologue said, "We’ve been used by the Tyrant in this operation, threatening us against the King’s Shield Guards, who have greatly strengthened under the Devil’s blessing."
Bologue spoke of his greatest concern, "Now, the disoriented crossroads are likely beyond our control."
Ivan asked, "How do you think they’ll use the Plague of Decay?"
Bologue thought for a while, recalling the unique landscape inside Oubos.
The mad, artificial teorological landscape.
"Gray Tide Smog... mixing the Plague of Decay into the surging mist, then erupting from the Great Rift; even if the Plague of Decay is diluted a thousand tis over, it can still cause massive casualties," Bologue said, "The King’s Shield Guards can fully use this to threaten us, or under the cover of Gray Tide Smog, launch an attack on the negotiation."
Bologue concluded, "Before completely resolving the issue with the King’s Shield Guards, we must halt the second negotiation."
"There shouldn’t have been a negotiation in the first place," Bologue thought.
Bologue’s inner voice represented the mindset of the vast majority of Order Bureau staff; they didn’t want negotiations with the King’s Secret Sword, especially involving Xilin’s corpse, which was a winner’s trophy, a monunt of flesh.
Now Xilin’s corpse held further aning for Bologue; in a grander sense, Xilin was ultimately just a pawn, having sparked a secret war only to answer the blood contract laid with the Astronaut, delivering the Alchemy Matrix of Power of Command to Bologue of the future without any Devil’s notice.
It was terrifying, but more terrifying was the possibility Bologue suddenly thought of after this.
Why did the Astronaut determine he could implant Xilin’s Alchemy Matrix? Did he even guess the calculations of the Chosen? But why would the Chosen select him for implantation?
With the Chosen’s ghastly computational capability, Bologue felt his complex identity couldn’t possibly pass the Chosen’s layer upon layer of scrutiny.
Bologue couldn’t grasp it, but he had a premonition, the riddles soon to be unveiled; with the intensifying disputes among Devils, all secrets would be exposed under the blazing sun.
While Bologue was deep in thought, Palr thought of nothing else; his mind fixated on one thing.
"I want to know who that person is, Ivan," Palr said, "the one who hurt Church."
Ivan said, "It’ll take so ti to compare, but it shouldn’t be a problem."
Information on the King’s Shield Guards wasn’t an issue for the Order Bureau; these traitors were also pursued by the King’s Secret Sword, and information comparison would easily reveal the truth.
Palr nodded, refraining from further comnts; this guy, usually full of boastful talk, finally beca serious, but it was over such an issue, stirring complex emotions.
The two had no reason to stay longer, so they rose to leave. Upon reaching the fork of the hallway, Palr suddenly stopped.
Before, Palr always followed behind Bologue, never asking the destination or purpose, but this ti he had his own idea.
Palr said, "I need to find so peace."
Bologue guessed his thoughts, saying, "So do I."
"See you later."
"Mm, see you later."
Palr’s figure disappeared at the end of the corridor; Bologue didn’t know where he was headed, nor what he planned to do. Bologue couldn’t help Palr, just as Palr couldn’t help him.
As Bologue pondered, he stepped into the elevator, picking up a dagger from his waist, the Phantom Dagger, recently repaired, but now was again damaged, its blade full of notches, the tal now showing specks of rust.
Except for the Curse Bite that wasn’t too affected, all of Bologue’s Alchemy Armants suffered varying degrees of erosion.
Even extraordinary items have durability; recently repaired, now Bologue needed to maintain them again to prepare for upcoming battles.
Pressing the button, the elevator moved towards an unknown direction; Bologue wasn’t sure if it was going up or down, as in the Cultivation Room, there was rarely a sense of accurate space, as if each space wasn’t connected.
When the elevator doors opened again, rising heat greeted him, the chanical clamor breaking Bologue’s inner calm.
The Sublimation Furnace Core was right in front.
Bologue adjusted his mood, hoping Aimou wouldn’t complain, given she just repaired these Alchemy Armants, yet he made them a ss again.
Bologue still pondered, how he ought to tell Aimou about his experience, luckily becoming a team leader? Then turning the first mission into such a ss... and about Church.
A subtle change in feelings occurred; at this mont, Bologue felt his long-frozen psychological age gained so growth, moving towards a wiser, more mature side.
"Boy, you have to bear all this."
Bologue humd an old tune.
"Bear it all, no matter how long it takes."
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