Endless Debt Chapter 1083 - 113: Free-for-All (Part 3)

The bark of these ancient trees is adorned with layers of deep green scales, resembling countless eyes observing all surroundings. Their branches intertwine, forming a dense thicket that creates a maze-like structure high above the ground.

Vast trees stretch across the sky like an immense dome, encompassing the Great Rift. When the deadly torrent erupts from the rift, it is filtered by this arboreal network, substantially diminishing the concentration and lethality of the decay epidemic.

Lebius now comprehends the purpose behind Mamo’s arrival. The Decision Room, foreseeing a potential outbreak of the decay epidemic, dispatched this venerable Seeker of Glory. His mission was to utilize his Secret Energy and his colossal, tide-like Ether reserves to counteract the epidemic, thereby significantly mitigating its impact on the city.

Mamo coughed repeatedly, his forehead beaded with sweat. Already appearing aged, he seemed to deteriorate further at this moment, becoming more withered. Concurrently, the colossal tree he conjured also showed signs of extreme antiquity.

In the face of the decay epidemic's onslaught, the giant tree reacted violently. Its bark, assaulted by the toxic fog, grew brittle, became covered in a web of fine cracks, and then crumbled away like ash.

Roots, like verdant serpents, coiled around the trunk, descending in intricate, often overlapping patterns, anchoring themselves firmly to the earth to prevent collapse.

With continued erosion and consumption by the relentless decay epidemic, the giant tree gradually withered, eventually vanishing into nothingness.

Mamo drew a deep, shaky breath as Balder rushed over, administering the Mang Silver Soul and other supplements to stabilize his failing physical state.

As one of the Order Bureau's foundational members, Mamo is undeniably ancient, and his Alchemy Matrix is no longer cutting-edge. Having expended his power against the initial wave of the decay epidemic, his task was complete.

Leaning heavily on the Iron Coffin, Mamo struggled to remain upright.

The crisis, however, was far from over. A significant quantity of the decay epidemic remained concentrated within the Great Rift. A subsequent surge would undoubtedly cause these lethal gases to spread further into the city.

Yet, that responsibility no longer fell to Mamo. To lessen the impact of this first wave, the Seeker of Glory’s power had been fully depleted, his Ether reserves exhausted in countering the decay epidemic. This left him nearly drained, a frail figure as a Seeker of Glory.

Despite his weakened state, Mamo had succeeded in minimizing the influence of the initial wave. Apart from the acoustic shockwaves that destroyed numerous establishments near the rift, the fog itself posed little deadly threat to the populace, thus preserving civilian lives.

"At the very least... the Lost Crossroads should be a desolate wasteland by now?"

Mamo mused, believing that even with the Devil’s protection, those lurking in the hidden corners of the Great Rift should have liquefied into putrid masses by now.

Regarding the common folk in Qiushang Town and the Mine, the Order Bureau had already orchestrated a complete evacuation prior to the operation’s commencement. This segment of the population was no longer a concern.

"It appears the Shadow King has exhausted all his options. His demise is now certain," Red Dog declared, his voice resonating eerily in the oppressive darkness, carrying a peculiar echo.

"Our agreement should still stand, shouldn't it?"

He inquired, his gaze fixed on the Iron Coffin concealed behind Aimou and Balder.

With the Shadow King eliminated, the next objective was to retrieve Xilin’s corpse. In the dim luminescence, Red Dog instinctively reached for his sword hilt, aware that this was to be the concluding act.

Lebius shook his head, stating, "I've lost contact with the Cultivation Room; communication must be restored before proceeding."

"Isn't that excessively rigid?" Red Dog retorted. "Must we present you with the Shadow King’s head?"

"It is not impossible."

Confronted by Lebius’s unwavering adherence to protocol, Red Dog found himself without recourse. The decay epidemic had disrupted communications, leaving him uncertain of the situation within the Great Rift or the progress of the King’s Secret Sword contingent.

However, thus far, the operation had proceeded without major incident. The First Seat had managed to conceal their true strength; from an external perspective, only faint Ether reactions from the Shadow King and the Seeker of Glory were detectable.

"So, we are condemned to linger in this forsaken place?" Red Dog grumbled. "This is hardly a suitable location."

Lebius reiterated, "I am awaiting orders."

Red Dog involuntarily clenched his fists. Blessed with a sharp wit, he typically excelled at provoking adversaries, yet Lebius remained an unyielding obstacle.

At that precise moment, a wave of Ethereal Fluctuation emanated from the darkness ahead, accompanied by the distinct sound of approaching footsteps.

A palpable tension gripped everyone. Following the eruption of the Grey Tide Mist, the identity of any entity emerging from the fog was a complete unknown.

Indistinct silhouettes gradually coalesced into clearer forms. In the ensuing instant, raw resentment permeated the air, a malevolent aura exploded from the shadows, chains clanked ominously, and a bloodthirsty Hand Axe descended from above, aimed with deadly intent to cleave Red Dog’s skull.

Red Dog smoothly dodged the descending axe strike as Bologue materialized, his voice ringing out.

"Rule Number One!"

This simple declaration, under different circumstances, carried varied implications. Within the confines of the Order Bureau, it was merely one regulation among many. However, in this present confrontation, it signified absolute, unquestioning allegiance.

Almost instantaneously with Bologue’s utterance, Lebius awakened his dormant Ether, causing several Blade-Biting Wolves to surge forth, their forms wreathed in fiercely burning arcs of Ether.

The immediate subsequent commotion was a delayed reaction.

"The First Seat has arrived!"

For a few breathless seconds, the oppressive darkness remained utterly still, only to then erupt into a frenzied pandemonium.

The First Seat!

The paramount leader of the King’s Secret Sword, their most formidable, their enigmatic, and their greatly feared First Seat.

The intelligence previously acquired by the Order Bureau contained no mention of the First Seat’s presence, an omission that clearly indicated a clandestine infiltration.

For a paragon of renown such as he to secretly infiltrate OUBos, regardless of the multitude of underlying reasons, the Order Bureau perceived this act as a direct declaration of war.

Following in Lebius’s wake, a cascade of Etheric responses surged forth as all Field Staff promptly adopted combat readiness. Behind Red Dog, numerous other members of the King’s Secret Sword drew their own Secret Swords, their tips now enveloped in blinding, incandescent light.

The carefully contained animosity and fury were finally unleashed in this critical moment, the cacophony of their roars merging into a singular, overwhelming sound.

Alongside Lebius, Geoffrey propelled himself forward, his Bone-breaking Knife a blur. Beyond the consuming rage that filled him, Geoffrey, Lebius, and indeed, all the survivors of past covert conflicts, experienced a profound, almost uncanny resonance.

It was as if the very fabric of time was unraveling, drawing them back into the shadows of their history. Yet, this time, a distinct possibility existed: the chance to rewrite the past.

Two distinct torrents of Ether clashed violently, their roars intermingling in a deafening crescendo. The ultimate battle for survival had begun, and from its crucible, a definitive victor would emerge.