Endless Debt Chapter 1035 - 98: The Final Hour (2)

Red Dog wore an offensive grin on his face, always with that sort of wild demeanor, "Lebius, why are you so silent? Not going to introduce me?"

"Red Dog, I have no desire to smash your face here," Lebius said coldly.

"Oh?"

Red Dog crossed his arms, the grin unchanged on his face, "I’m quite looking forward to it."

After speaking, he approached Bologue and Palmer, one hand holding a wine glass, the other hanging in the air, ready to shake hands with them.

His gaze swept over their faces, quickly recognizing their identities.

"You must be Mr. Bologue Lazarus." Red Dog reached out to Bologue, offering a friendly gesture, "I’ve heard that you’ll be leading the team afterwards. I hope we can cooperate smoothly."

Bologue did not extend his hand, his eyes unemotionally scrutinizing Red Dog’s eyes. He knew this would be a tricky opponent.

"All right, you surely are a member of Lebius’ group, even your temperament is identical."

Red Dog glanced at Palmer, not seeking further trouble, but instead waved his arm and raised his voice to shout to the people around.

"Everyone, let’s drink heartily!"

Red Dog stepped onto the red carpet, Bologue thought Red Dog was a person with an over-the-top performative personality; they shared some resemblance, but Bologue’s performative personality only appeared when executing enemies.

Under Red Dog’s direction, the King’s Secret Sword organized a simple open-air cocktail party here to send off the upcoming action, like the ceremonies knights of old held before battle.

Red Dog stepped onto the round table, maintaining his balance. The table didn’t wobble at all.

"Today we will slaughter those stupid traitors, their fate is sealed, destined to be crushed beneath my feet!"

As Red Dog spoke, he drew the Secret Sword from his waist, which captured Bologue’s attention more than Red Dog did.

It was a flame-shaped sword, the cold, hard metal possessed a dynamic feel, resembling a dancing flame.

But it seemed cursed, its original metallic sheen dull and lifeless, seemingly stained by blood. The runes on the sword body lost their past glory and became sinister and horrifying.

Seeing that sword, Lebius’ eyes twitched for a moment, he remembered the sword, the blade that had slit his friend’s throat.

The blade emitted a chilling malice, inducing a sense of foreboding within, its patterns like endless veins, restraining the curse’s power within the sword body, constantly emanating a ghastly glow.

Bologue suspected it was also a Contract Object; compared to Alchemy Armament, Contract Objects came with terrifying costs but also bestowed immense power.

This flame-shaped sword was once revered by many, but now, it has become a symbol of malice and curse, a fear etched in the hearts of righteous and brave people.

Red Dog continued his pre-war declaration, each word pierced the ears.

"Their betrayal has ignited our fury, they will pay the price for their actions.

They will be destroyed by us, like all traitors, no one can escape judgment, malice and dark forces form an inescapable net from Hell, firmly trapping them!

Ashes to ashes! Reduced to slaves!

Live out the rest of their lives in screams and agony, become a warning to all traitors, nailed to the High Tower!"

Red Dog’s roar was deafening, other Secret Swords echoed him, drawing their blades and raising them skyward.

In contrast, the field staff from the Order Bureau stood at their places coldly, completely unaffected by the King’s Secret Sword’s atmosphere.

Bologue sensed this difference, understanding it as the distinction between the Order Bureau and the King’s Secret Sword. The Order Bureau was more like a modern military company, while the King’s Secret Sword retained the traditional knight culture, evident from their attire and weapons.

The curse’s declaration spread into the Sea of Mist, and Palmer whispered, "Won’t this alert the enemy?"

"The Great Rift has been completely sealed; if the Shadow King isn’t a fool, he must know what will happen," Bologue said, "This doesn’t really count as a surprise attack, but a full-on war... now do you understand why I call us the Suicide Squad?"

Palmer understood but showed no fear, only touching the dice on his wrist, feeling the cold metal and the texture of its patterns, as if this brought him comfort.

Red Dog stepped down from the round table, and the other Secret Swords began to drink. They took only half a glass, then poured the remaining half on their blades.

In ancient times, knights of the Kagader Empire would pour half a glass of wine by their horse’s feet; now the blade replaces the horse as their indispensable partner.

As every field staff knows, the blade is not just their weapon but also a symbol of their identity.

"Quite a nice declaration, enough to make everyone lose their minds sending to their deaths for you," Lebius commented coldly.

Red Dog leaned to one side, watching the crowd preparing for battle, he seemed to enjoy the commotion.

His eyes became lost, Red Dog’s demeanor was utterly indifferent, as if seeing everything around him, yet seeing nothing.

"Honor, status, wills shackled by pathetic rituals," Red Dog retorted, "I like these things, just say a few pretty words, and you can deceive people into dying."