Endless Debt Chapter 1575 - 92: Above the Angry Sea

The cold wind carried a stench of blood, and raindrops fell on Bologue’s face like blood that had long cooled.

He remembered the first time he came to the Wind Source Highlands, it coincided with its attack, years later, his return felt like a replay of past events.

Bologue sighed helplessly, the more he thought about it, the more absurd it seemed. He couldn’t help but laugh at this scene of dark humor.

Truly a complete disaster!

"Move it!"

Holt’s voice rang out from the front, and the members of the fourth group hurriedly dropped their luggage and shifted into combat mode.

Without any intention of concealment, the might of the Seeker of Glory was released from Holt’s body, like a blazing sun rising amidst the storm. A terrifying ether pressure spread in all directions, immediately alarming everyone on the battlefield.

Ether converged, burned, and a strong radiance soared up, forming a pillar of light reaching the sky, akin to the flag of a Commander-in-Chief, marking Holt’s position.

The swirling gusts briefly paused then abruptly shifted direction, countless Wind-Eroded Birds approached Holt’s group, while many Bloodthirsty ones on the ground turned their targets, launching a surprise attack towards Holt.

Holt and the fourth group’s figures vanished into the misty rain, replaced by the terrifying rise of ethereal fluctuations, wildly distorting reality.

Battle erupted.

Bologue didn’t act immediately; he first watched as Holt and the others entered the battlefield, then looked towards Hinda not far away.

The fifth group moved slower than Holt’s; their role as Hunters and Trackers rarely involved stepping into such direct battlefields, let alone being dragged into war without any preparation.

"Hurry up! Hurry up!"

Hinda urged loudly, the group members opened the cages, and their animal companions leapt out, surrounding them.

The fifth group didn’t hastily attack; this chaotic battlefield was very unfavorable to them. Hinda glanced back at Bologue, the two exchanged a look of intent before Hinda led the others charging into the building.

The open battlefield wasn’t suitable for them, but eliminating the enemies infiltrating the buildings fit them better. The barking gradually faded away, leaving only scattered luggage strewn everywhere.

Bologue asked Church beside him, "Are you coming along?"

Church shook his head. After being with Afeiya, he was indeed a bit more cheerful, but only slightly.

"This is too chaotic for me to get involved."

Church said, raising the suitcase he held once more to show Bologue.

Bologue nodded in understanding. As a Narrow Space Walker, Church was a perfect assassin. He shouldn’t be wasted on this battlefield but used for more valuable targets. Bologue guessed that inside the suitcase was Chekov’s Gun, which had once killed an Elder.

Aimou poked her head out, "Can you help watch over the luggage?"

"That I can do."

Church said as he took Aimou’s luggage, then took Bologue’s and Palmer’s as well.

Not far away, immense fireballs were being created in mid-air; they descended heavily and slowly onto the Fortress of the Morning Wind, triggering massive explosions.

The intense tremor passed through without reservation, causing the figures to sway as if caught in an earthquake. Clouds of thick smoke rose from the sunken pits, and the sound of bricks breaking was constant.

A large flock of Wind-Eroded Birds skimmed low overhead, their sharp talons like scythes, ready at any moment to sever the heads of those who rashly looked up... This was indeed a battlefield akin to Purgatory, but it didn’t affect Bologue and the others.

They seemed like weary travelers, after meticulously instructing Church, Bologue handed over the suitcase containing the Vengeful Saw Axe to him.

Carrying a suitcase during combat was always troublesome, not to mention Bologue didn’t want it stained with blood so soon.

"Are you guys done?"

Palmer’s voice sounded a bit anxious, he controlled the raging winds mixed with Storm Feathers, relentlessly crashing into the Wind-Eroded Bird flock.

After a piercing screech, metal mercilessly tore through feathers, bones, and flesh, masses of fragmented flesh rained down, splattering crimson everywhere.

Bologue appeared leisurely, but Palmer couldn’t be relaxed; although he rarely stayed here, after all this was Palmer’s hometown, the territory he would inherit in the future. These raids weren’t just setting fire to Palmer’s home, they were also causing his future wealth to devalue constantly.

"All right, all right!"

Bologue responded quickly, and after confirming everything was arranged, Church’s figure gradually blurred, and vanished from sight. Bologue raised his head, gazing at the impending... Dark Iron Curtain.

Between the gloomy clouds, the rolling Thunder vibrated the air, each lightning bolt was like a sharp sword, piercing the dark curtain, tearing the dark clouds into countless fragments, then they reunited, becoming indestructible.

In the storm, countless birds circled in the sky, their cries echoed in the wind, filled with sadness and fear, as if mourning the impending disaster.

Another violent tremor swept through, this time the sensation was stronger than before, even Bologue nearly lost his balance, falling to the ground.

Palmer stared blankly into the distance, only to see a gigantic fissure collapse from the Fortress of the Morning Wind, and the crack continually expanding, forming a breach threatening to split the fortress apart.

Previously, Palmer was able to relax himself, but now his entire body was stiff, as if a bomb had exploded in his mind, causing dizziness.

Palmer struggled to divert his gaze, his body calling for battle, almost losing control and rushing toward the breach, yet Palmer finally mastered himself, letting reason triumph.

He looked at Bologue, "I’m heading to the Celestial Dome Castle first."

The Celestial Dome Castle is the core fortress of the Fortress of the Morning Wind, also the command center of the Clarks, to understand what’s truly going on, Palmer must go there and ensure its safety.

"Alright, I’ll handle the enemies at the breach."

As Bologue spoke, he drew the Scythe, and Aimou slipped off his robe, entering Bologue’s body from behind as if donning armor.

A golden halo blossomed in Bologue’s pupils.

Palmer lingered no longer, he called forth a gale, the next moment he ascended on the spot, the translucent hem unfurling behind him, breaking the speed of sound instantly, streaking like lightning towards the summit of many fortresses.

Bologue gazed at Palmer disappearing into the horizon, the clouds in the sky rolled and shifted, as though performing a silent drama, and the theme of that drama was endless darkness and unavoidable disaster.

The calls of birds, the flicker of lightning, the roar of storms, all seemed to play the overture for this grand theme.

"Do you think this is a coincidence?" Bologue asked, "We just arrived, and now war breaks out."

"Rather than coincidence, I think this is more like the Rebellious Royal Court anticipated our next move," Aimou’s voice echoed in his mind, "They wish to strike first, before us."

"Then why the Fortress of the Morning Wind?"

Bologue couldn’t fathom, "Last time, it was here that faced an attack; why is the Rebellious Royal Court always targeting this place? Could it be solely due to past grudges?"

The Order Bureau has numerous bases within the Rhine Alliance, and the Clarks’ residence, the Fortress of the Morning Wind, is undoubtedly the hardest to invade. Yet, the Rebellious Royal Court seems obsessed, relentlessly battering like tides.

"They aren’t that foolish."

Bologue muttered to himself, dismissing his own thoughts, "If their goal were easily blinded by hatred, then the Rebellious Royal Court would be too shortsighted."

Aimou continued following Bologue’s train of thought, "The Fortress of the Morning Wind holds special significance for them, it is a problem that must be resolved before their expansion... for the ’Dawn Oath’?"

Bologue glanced downward, countless Bloodthirsty were climbing up the walls; even though Bologue had unleashed the pressure of his own Ether, they showed no fear; instead, they seemed excited, their movements quicker.

"No, the ’Dawn Oath’ has long been sealed away by the Order Bureau."

Bologue calmly decapitated a Bloodthirsty, Deceitful Snake Scale Liquid slithered out from his sleeve, proliferating and spreading, liquid metal extruding countless needles, like a torrential rain falling along the trajectory of gravity.

Piercing through armor, piercing through organs, piercing through flesh, piercing through bones... as if an exquisite swordsman, unleashing thousands of sword strikes in an instant, the bodies of Bloodthirsty repeatedly pierced, turned into fine mush, under the toxic contamination of death metal, the Blood of the Night Race unable to heal them in the slightest.

Metal raindrops whizzed through the air, slicing through the silent air, issuing sharp outcry.

Bodies fell into the darkness, seconds later, successive explosions rose from below, terrifying heat waves evaporated the droplets on the walls, carrying scorching air, flames soared skyward.

Bitter and mournful, echoing across the sky and earth.

Bologue looked disdainfully at the corpse strewn fragments, judging by the efficacy, death metal indeed exhibited certain suppressive power. Coupled with a measure of Silver, the Deceitful Snake Scale Liquid sufficed to obliterate any Night Race of non-Pure Blood tier.

Sporadic explosions sounded from the corpses, Bologue sighed, "Still the same old stuff."

The Night Race adorned these Bloodthirsty with armor, even embedded bombs within, employing this suicidal approach as a crazy assault, indeed it represents a force hard to handle for most low-tier Condensers, yet for high-tier Condensers, these Bloodthirsty posed no threat.

Bologue contemplated something, "Aimou, whom do you think the Fortress of the Morning Wind is defending against ultimately?"

"Naturally, the Night Race, isn’t it?"

"Then why build the fortress here? Why does the Night Race always come from the sea?"

Bologue spoke, his gaze cast towards the dim end of the sea, where turbulent waves and rolling thunder persisted, like a realm of chaos, endlessly restless.

In official records, numerous Ethereal Vortex Points gathered above that sea area, continuously intermittently disturbing reality, distorting physical laws.

Legend has it that part of the incessant gales of the Wind Source Highlands comes from above that sea.

Bologue recalled the name of that sea area.

"Aimou," Bologue suddenly spoke, "I think I’ve found the Land of Eternal Night."

Over that ceaseless Angry Sea.