Endless Debt Chapter 1107 - 120: Royal Domain (Part 2)

Even the flesh and blood of a Negative Power User, if entirely consumed, could still offer the First Seat the means to persist in battle.

However, this time, just as the Sword of Confession was poised to strike, a thunderous roar of Ether erupted from behind.

"You are merely an illusion..."

Nesanel calmly moved through the spectral figure, shaking off the influence of the Confession Song and rapidly advancing towards the First Seat. Aimou, Geoffrey, and the others were still in the vicinity. To ensure their safety, Nesanel was compelled to temporarily restrain the power of his Secret Energy. The intense heat subsided, leaving only the Ethereal Power of the Extreme Realm to fiercely impact the First Seat's body.

Upon contact, Nesanel's fist pulverized the First Seat's protruding white bone. The Sword of Confession then pivoted, slashing towards Nesanel. At this juncture, the Supreme Secret Sword had already woven a sufficient number of notes. To be struck by it meant plunging into a blissful dream.

As a Seeker of Glory, this power was insufficient to completely incapacitate Nesanel. However, for someone like Bologue, a Negative Power User, the ability to resist was clearly lacking. The moment Bologue was struck, he was utterly ensnared by the power, lost within a dream.

This was a Supreme Secret Sword, both gentle and merciless, leading one to their demise in peaceful slumber.

In the fleeting instant of their confrontation, another figure stirred.

Aimou hurled Xilin's lifeless body towards Geoffrey and, with all her might, propelled herself towards Bologue, who was beneath the First Seat. She was exceedingly familiar with the First Seat's defenses, recognizing it as the power stemming from the Sect of Cursed Decay. Aimou had no capacity to dwell on why the First Seat of the King's Secret Sword wielded such an ability. Her immediate concern was that to defeat the First Seat, all sources of flesh and blood must be severed.

Bologne, this Undead being, represented an undeniably prime source of flesh and blood for the First Seat. Aimou needed to devise a method to reawaken Bologue, while she herself was nothing more than a worthless piece of scrap metal in the eyes of the First Seat.

The First Seat registered Aimou's approach, as did Nesanel. The Sword of Confession swept towards Aimou, concurrently launching the Age-Stealing Mist from around the First Seat's form like a collapsing tsunami. Nesanel decisively dispersed Ether, utilizing it to counter the Age-Stealing Mist. Yet, despite his prompt reaction, a significant quantity of the lethal mist managed to spread.

The instant the mist made contact, the Alchemy Matrix on Aimou's body began to rapidly flicker and deactivate. The dark Second Skin enveloping her began to deteriorate and crumble, exposing the metallic body beneath. Soon, the Alchemy Metal itself started to succumb to rust.

Aimou felt her body rapidly succumbing to age. Her hair fell away in clumps, and the once lustrous metal transformed into a state of grim decay.

This accelerated aging transcended the physical; Aimou's Ether also dispersed at an alarming rate, nearly reducing her to a heap of scrap metal instantaneousl, leaving only the Constant Motion Core, nestled deep within the layers of steel, intact.

The deadly white mist coalesced around the First Seat, prepared to hasten the decay of all in its vicinity when an abrupt surge of Ether reaction emanated from the periphery of the battlefield.

The freely drifting mist abruptly shifted course, intertwining and tracing the path of the wind. A swift, howling gust roared from a distance, seemingly unstoppable. It tore through the gray miasma of decay, rapidly passing over the First Seat, provoking a violent reaction with the residual plague and the Age-Stealing Mist through its own Ether.

The currents of air merged, and the mist churned erratically, akin to a stampeding herd of horses. With the complete combustion of Ether, the wind reached its zenith, gradually forming a localized maelstrom.

The ferocious wind scoured the dust from the ground, causing it to tremble incessantly. Within the gale's roar, indistinct spectral sounds seemed to intermingle, banishing the shadows.

Aimou perceived a figure at the edge of the gale. Palmer, supporting the nearly incapacitated Lebius, and accompanied by a triumphant cry, hurled a weapon into the howling wind. The power of the Prayer Believers, while clearly struggling to overcome the might of the Seeker of Glory, still enabled Palmer to indirectly disrupt these Illusory Creations by influencing the prevailing weather of the entire area.

"Deputy Director!"

Palmer's shout accompanied the wind. The mist, buffeted by the gale, merely writhed slightly before returning to the First Seat's control. By this point, Palmer had achieved his objective. Dense blades pierced through the wind, clanging as they impacted the First Seat. Palmer's bold action incensed the First Seat. He had never anticipated that a mere Prayer Believer would dare to provoke him in such a manner.

Simultaneously, an eerie whistling sound permeated the air. Nesanel, noticing the disturbance, extended his hand to seize steel within the wind, unleashing a fierce sword light that clashed with the Sword of Repentance.

"Clark's boy, for once, you're dependable," Nesanel exclaimed, gripping the Immovable Sword tightly. Even he couldn't help but acknowledge Palmer's perfectly timed arrival.

The Ethereal Amplification technique from the Extreme Realm was incredibly potent. Most weapons simply couldn't withstand such immense power, forcing Nesanel to fight primarily with his bare hands for an extended period, like a seasoned boxer.

After all, as a Seeker of Glory, who else would be considered worthy of him wielding a weapon?

That is, until he encountered the First Seat.

The Power of the Extreme Realm, belonging to the Glory Holder Tier, surged into the Immovable Sword. Its overflowing might caused the sword's radiance to intensify significantly. This time, Nesanel didn't evade the attacks from the Sword of Confession; he met them head-on, engaging directly in the fierce exchange.