Endless Debt Chapter 1492 - 60: Rescue Operation_3

He first felt ecstatic, like a twisted kind of pleasure had been fulfilled, and then was gripped by sorrow so intense it nearly tore his mind apart.

The Prophet glimpsed secrets, aware of the world’s beauty; equally, the sorrows of the past and future, shared by billions, emerged in his mind simultaneously.

It was such a colossal sadness that it effortlessly buried the Prophet.

At that time, Palmer didn’t comprehend the meaning of the story; listening to those laments now, he understood somewhat.

The fall lasted several seconds as Bologue landed steadily on the ground. Darkness gave way to blinding lights, noise erupted from all directions, accompanied by the sound of rushing water, as if a waterfall were surging endlessly.

Bologue saw clearly where he was—inside a massive underground cavern, not naturally formed. There were marks of excavation everywhere, one could envision a group of Condensing School students laboring here tirelessly.

This place had been turned into an underground port. A wide dark river flowed from one side, disappearing into the darkness, its currents relentless. Cargo ships were docked at the shore, and a group of Night Race individuals with blood-red eyes was hastening rows of chained Imperfect to board the ships.

They noticed Bologue and his group’s arrival—after a brief moment of surprise, someone sounded the alarm. Intense Etherial reactions rose from the crowd, some charged at Bologue while others sped up the transport.

This time, Bologue greeted no one as, under Ethereal Amplification, he crushed the ground with a single step, speeding off like a cannonball.

A Night Race member collided head-on with Bologue, and in the instant of passing, his head flew high, his torso shattered into pieces, leaving a track of blood mist trailing behind like a comet tail.

No one saw how Bologue swung his sword; it happened so quickly that when the subsequent Night Race members reacted, Bologue was already upon them.

A Night Race member decisively grabbed a nearby Imperfect, attempting to use them as a shield against Bologue’s sword strikes, but Bologue merely raised his hand, and instantly, a sharp pain spread across the Night Race member’s skin.

He felt as if hundreds of steel needles pierced his flesh, penetrating his bones, his joints restricted by some force, rendered immobile like a statue. Next, he heard the intense sound of blood rushing within, his pulse escalating continuously until reaching the peak.

Boom—

A dull explosion sounded from within the Night Race member, his chest and abdomen rapidly expanded, bursting into a mist of blood, internal organs reduced to a pulp, spilling all over the ground.

His eyes were filled with disbelief, his chest and abdomen seemed to empty, quickly deflating, and then the whole Imperfect fell into the pool of blood, flesh rubbing against the ground with blood as lubricant, like a soaked mop sliding on the ground.

Blood spattered from explosions landed on other Imperfect nearby, and it wasn’t until the cold blood touched their skin that they understood what had transpired.

There was no fear, no lament—instead, they instinctively knew, without exchange of words, that Bologue had come to rescue them.

Even if Bologue seemed a hundred times more brutal than the Night Race.

Bologue wiped the blood from his face without expression and said calmly, "I am Bologue Lazarus, leader of the Order Bureau Special Operations Group. According to regulations, I will prioritize the protection of civilian units."

The Imperfect stared blankly at him, having lost the ability to think due to prolonged torment, let alone decipher Bologue’s words.

Order Bureau? What was that?

Bologue sighed helplessly and before the Night Race’s attack arrived, he shouted loudly in a way the Imperfect could understand.

"Everyone! I’ve come to save you!"

Simple, unpretentious words, yet they resonated like a drumstick, awakening their lifeless hearts.

"So... rejoice!"

Bologue roared, commanding the earth. Solid rocks rose, forming an arc-shaped shield wall, protecting the crowd.

A fierce wind approached as Palmer soared over Bologue’s head, his rapier thrusting quickly, piercing through a chain of bodies, leaving a heap of severed limbs and remains.