Endless Debt Chapter 1359 - 110: Undying, Unyielding (Part 3)

"I may go crazy next, Aimou, but I’m not losing control."

As he finished saying this, Bologue skillfully manipulated his consciousness, allowing a thought to repeatedly intensify within his mind, like strokes drawn over and over on paper, leaving marks deep enough to penetrate through the back.

Kill him.

Aimou could feel the brutally rational thought in Bologue’s mind, as if, at this moment, Bologue had transformed into a god of pure murder, destruction, and vengeance.

Bologue relinquished control of his body, surrendering his mind and heart to that irrational obsession.

The story that followed was simple; it was an extremely savage slaughter, a battle with no technique, just a clash of power against power.

A duel between two monsters.

Bologue completely ignored the terrifying wound on his chest, unimaginable force surged through his hands, accompanied by a crunching friction sound as he forcibly pulled the grudge bite out of Yidir’s chest.

At the same time, the Vengeful Saw Axe struck down again, easily severing one of Yidir’s arms. The detached limb dropped as the axe blade turned towards his waist and abdomen, hacking fiercely like felling a giant tree, cleaving through Yidir’s spine, slicing a large gash in his stomach, spilling intestines like tangled vines.

For the Undead at this moment, defense was an act of cowardice. What they required was stronger and purer violence, until that violence could completely quell the undying life, bestowing eternal death and tranquility upon the opponent.

For this reason, Yidir also ignored his own terrifying wounds, with the remaining three arms ferociously slashing, cleaving into Bologue’s shoulder, ripping apart most of Bologue’s face, even piercing through the eyeball.

Amidst the bloodshed, Yidir howled and bit into Bologue’s arm, violently tearing chunks of flesh from Bologue’s body and swallowing them down.

They seemed to feel no pain, like primitive beasts savagely tearing into each other.

Aimou called out loudly for Bologue’s name, but Bologue gave no response. Hiding within Bologue’s body at this moment, Aimou was like a cold observer, trapped in this bloody massacre. She did not enjoy any of it; instead, she found sharing the sensory feedback with Bologue terrifying.

As if caught in a whirlwind of chaotic madness.

While Bologue was injured, he was also healing rapidly. As Yidir bit into him, he bit back, sinking his teeth into Yidir’s throat, the closing jaw crushing the throat’s cartilage with a crisp sound like breaking a biscuit.

He tried to mimic Yidir’s actions by eating Yidir’s flesh, but Bologue didn’t possess Protection·Bloodthirsty Healing, and the sticky flesh only choked him.

With a fierce pull, Yidir’s newly healed neck burst open again, blood gushing, and Bologue spat out the flesh in his mouth. The grudge bite struck Yidir’s jaw precisely, completely penetrating his head, stabbing out from the back of his skull.

The brain was severed, the central nervous system shredded, causing Yidir’s actions to stall for a moment. Bologue then used all his strength to thrust the blade upward, cleaving Yidir’s entire head in two from below.

Yidir froze completely in place, his head splitting down the middle and collapsing sideways, the cross-section impeccably clear, perfectly like a surgical dissection.

At this point, the feeling of loss of control caused by the curse gradually faded, and Bologue slowly regained control of his body, the insane killing intent diminishing, replaced by the nearly excruciating pain of wounds throughout his body.

In his uncontrolled state, Bologue couldn’t control himself, acting only on his last command, though fortunately, Yidir was no better off than himself.

Yidir leaned back, falling off the double helix staircase, rolling back onto the fleshy carpet of blood and meat he had created.

Bologue didn’t believe this could completely kill Yidir, and indeed, Yidir’s body convulsed and spasmed, broken limbs bending grotesquely, countless lumps appearing on the surface of his flesh, as if countless maggots crawled within.

A gurgling sound of flowing liquid emerged, but this time what flowed from Yidir’s body was not crimson blood, but pitch-black, foul-smelling tar.

Yidir was like a container riddled with cracks, the tar he housed seeping out through the gaps, now scrambling to crawl back into Yidir’s body.

Bologue watched the viscous tar thoughtfully, attempting to associate it with the essence of the Devil, but quickly abandoned the effort; it was not a good time to ponder.

Swinging the sword and axe, Bologue brought down a strike with the force of a thousand jin.