Endless Debt Chapter 1076 - 111: Corpse-Eater’s Body (Part 2)

"Are you quite certain?" the aged woman inquired with a gentle tone."We can barely sustain ourselves at present."

Afia stood frozen, the words striking her deeply.

The expansive Sea of Mist churned and swelled in all directions. From the vantage point of the Observation Tower, the city was submerged in a dense shroud of inky clouds, completely blanketing every sector. It was clear this oppressive gloom would soon engulf the entire metropolis.

Ivan, after a brief survey, re-entered the room, his countenance grim. Within the Cultivation Room, urgent alarms blared without cessation, summoning all personnel as critical broadcasts echoed sequentially.

An employee approached Ivan, who wasted no time in asking,"Are we able to establish contact?"

"Negative. We have detected that the fog tide is laden with a substantial quantity of the decay plague," the employee elaborated."This pervasive affliction has consumed the ether, effectively severing all communication channels."

"It sounds as though the Great Rift is expanding outwards," Ivan mused aloud.

"Based on our projections..."

The employee's voice faltered, hesitating to proceed.

"Continue. At a juncture like this, there is no room for hesitation," Ivan commanded.

"According to our calculations, a concentrated decay plague bomb appears to have detonated within the Great Rift. Though its expansion might dilute the impact across the vast expanse, at the epicenter of the explosion, within the confined and constricted space of the Great Rift itself..."

Ivan paused, then questioned,"Do you believe they have all perished?"

The employee offered no definitive answer."I cannot say for certain, but the data indicates that those at the explosion's core are enduring the full brunt of the high-concentration decay plague."

An overwhelming sense of pressure bore down on Ivan, causing his head to throb.

"This operation involved our mission's finest. Even when subjected to a concentrated decay plague impact, they are shielded by ether and should not perish readily."

Ivan clung to this hope.

Once the employee concluded their report, they were immediately occupied with renewed urgency. Ivan proceeded down a deserted corridor, and after a few paces, he let out a curse and forcefully struck the wall.

For this critical mission, the elite action group members were engaged in trade, while other squads maintained a perimeter around the Great Rift. It now appeared to be a meticulously laid trap, with the primary forces directly exposed to the decay plague.

How could the King's Shield Guard have orchestrated such a scenario? Ivan struggled to comprehend it.

Despite the terrifying nature of the decay plague, its deployment was exceedingly complex. Yet, they had ingeniously utilized the gray fog haze as a medium, allowing this sinister gas to permeate the entire city.

The King's Shield Guard had virtually placed themselves at the forefront of the decay plague's onslaught, thereby orchestrating a terrifying meteorological event.

"Tyrant... damned Tyrant."

Ivan knew precisely who possessed the capability to achieve this. He was convinced that the eruption of the gray fog haze was unequivocally orchestrated by the Tyrant.

"Damn it! Damn it all!"

In his mounting frustration, Ivan repeatedly struck the wall, his fists drawing blood.

Now, with communication severely disrupted by the decay plague, no one possessed any knowledge of the events unfolding within the Great Rift. Not only the Order Bureau's action teams but even the King's Secret Sword had seemingly vanished.

An impenetrable fog had obscured all vision, leaving everyone in ignorance of the perils concealed beneath the oppressive miasma.

... .

It was akin to a grand, devastating cleansing. The ascending fog, intertwined with the decay plague, swept over everything in its path like a corrosive agent. Rocks disintegrated, structures crumbled, and those who had failed to evacuate the perilous crossroads rapidly transformed into decomposing corpses, eventually dissolving into mere dust.

Amidst the surging fog, the Fourth Seat sought refuge in a nearby sanctuary. Activating etheric defenses, he shielded the other members of the King's Secret Sword, their efforts focused on withstanding the onslaught of the roaring Sea of Mist.

To his astonishment, the advancing decay plague was less potent than anticipated. While it inflicted some damage, it remained within the realm of resistance.

It suggested that some entity had absorbed the majority of the destructive force, leaving only a residual amount to propagate.

"First Seat..."

The Fourth Seat murmured, acknowledging the clandestine mission undertaken by the First Seat. Ostensibly, his own assault was merely a diversion, while the First Seat's true objective was to eliminate the Shadow King, precipitating... a further conspiracy.

However, the sudden eruption of the decay plague had thrown all plans into disarray. The King's Secret Sword had their covert objectives, and the King's Shield Guard had deployed a trap, complete with preemptive warnings.

A trap designed to lure the First Seat, using the Shadow King as bait.

"I must depart from here."

The Fourth Seat conveyed this to his companions. Exchanging resolute glances, they nodded in agreement, signaling their understanding. The current concentration of the decay plague had not yet reached lethal levels, causing only superficial burns. The true zone of annihilation lay ahead, within the desolate ruins of the Fog Abyss Fortress.

Intense concentrations of the decay plague permeated those brutal ruins, marking the ultimate death zone, and it was there the Fourth Seat now had to proceed.

Around them, the concentration of the decay plague began to intensify, and as the etheric and cloaking fields interfered with each other, an audible hissing sound emanated.

The Fourth Seat came to a halt. Dense fog had choked off all vision, limiting even his sight as a Defender to mere meters. Yet, beyond the Sea of Mist, he perceived the ethereal fluctuations and the indistinct, monstrous silhouette.

Amidst the ruins, a grotesque flesh monster writhed, its form contorting ceaselessly. Stripped of skin, its raw flesh lay exposed, directly meeting the corrosive touch of the decay plague.

It thrashed in torment, its body riddled with wounds, from which blood and ichor oozed. Each pained moan and bellow carried a foul stench, a potent warning that kept all observers at bay.