Endless Debt Chapter 1189 - 32: Turning Point

The bloodwater boiled and surged, throwing up layers of bloody waves. Under waves of ripples, countless corpses struggled and roared within the bloodwater. The sound of breaking reverberated across the surface, chilling to the bone.

Tino’s eyes filled with a fervent emotion. He knew the god he worshipped had arrived. Meanwhile, Bologue stood ready, though it wasn’t his first confrontation with the Devil, yet no one could fathom what these capricious beings might do.

Bologue watched as the bloodwater spread relentlessly, every area it covered swallowed the substances below. Broken benches sunk one after another, as did burning candle stands.

Pulling York’s shattered form, Bologue retreated until they stood at the statue’s edge, where the bloodwater finally ceased its expansion. The chapel by then had emptied, leaving only countless heads, limbs, and bodies rising and falling, with a chorus of shrieks and wails calling for life’s end.

If Bologue were to write the history of the Extraordinary World, he’d mark the Decline Epidemic event as a turning point of world change.

The wandering paths entrenched within the Great Rift were utterly destroyed, exposing the Abandoned Land. After burning for countless ages, the light blaze showed signs of extinguishing, releasing this world’s Calamity from its prison.

The King’s Secret Sword suffered serious damage, and Overlord Xilin also returned at this moment.

As the concentration of Ether continued to rise, Bologue felt the whole world seemed to be undergoing a massive reality fracture.

Reality fracture.

The illusory stories and the real world were slowly overlapping, and the monsters hidden in stories seemed to no longer fear the light, rushing out from the darkness one after another.

Night Race, the Crimson Rot Sect, Gray Trade Association... the Devil’s followers no longer hid but brazenly stepped into the earthly realm, spreading chaos and madness until the boundary between fiction and reality blurred.

Bologue thought the rise of the Night Race was madness enough, until even the Devil no longer hid himself.

"Lady!" Tino shouted, "Great Lady!"

He sensed the great existence, tears of excitement streaming down, for a zealous believer, everything now was the greatest Blessing. Yet the next second, his ecstatic hymn abruptly ceased as countless arms reached from the bloodwater, gripping Tino’s body tightly.

Then tore off large chunks of flesh.

Tino wailed in agony, but his cries couldn’t stop the grisly fate unfolding, more arms grabbed him, bit by bit dragging him into the bloodwater.

In the bloodwater, there seemed to hide countless hungry monsters, devouring Tino’s body enthusiastically, stripping his flesh clean, gnawing down to his bones and sucking them dry.

Bologue watched coldly, for he had witnessed the madness of the Crimson Rot Sect before, and felt little sympathy for Tino’s plight.

"Is this blood considered your sacrificial offering for your arrival?"

Bologue questioned, "Like the Original Sin you represent, the things aligning with your desires will guide you."

Opening a briefcase, Bologue extracted the black Resentful Bite. Under Ethereal Amplification, this deadly blade could sever any material... though Bologue hadn’t tried using it to cleave a Devil yet.

Dense bubbles emerged from the bloodwater, bursting with a gurgling sound, in this domain filled with terror, a heap of scarlet bone marrow formed emerged from the bloodwater.

They intertwined with muscular tissue, shaping into gruesome skeletons, bones presenting a soft, flexible slender form, waving blood-red arms while emitting a low hum, like chanting an evil Curse.

Under the frenzy, high concentration Ether accumulated here, causing Bologue an odd sense of detachment, as if the chapel he was in had been torn from reality by the Devil’s power, discarded into the Ethereal Realm.

On a pedestal of skulls, Bologue saw the lady draped in blood, entwined by these skeletons, seemingly tormented and threatened, yet also revered by them.

Blood flowed from her body, weaving into a crimson hem, slowly lifting her head, countless faces flickering across her visage.

Such are the Devils, never possessing a specific face or form, they change according to the observer’s inner desires, yet some Devils choose a form with certain traits due to personality or other factors.

Like the Astronaut.

"Mr. Bologue Lazarus," the lady spoke, "we meet again."

She slowly walked down the skull pedestal, stepping on the bloodwater surface, approaching step by step, dragging a deep red, magnificent robe, along with the surrounding thick scent of blood.

"Your appearances in the earthly realm are becoming more frequent," Bologue calmly said, "even your form has become more defined... your influence on the Material Realm has increased, even shedding territorial constraints?"

The Ethereal Realm and Material Realm were slowly overlapping, and with the rise of Ether concentration, these creatures bound within the Ethereal Realm would gain more power in the Material Realm.