As Morrison was defeated, the battlefield returned to calm, and the surroundings became quiet. Bologue could occasionally hear groaning from beneath the ruins, the rubbing of bricks, and the clattering of stones falling, making subtle sounds.

Bologue no longer saw that massive flesh construct. In the center of the ruins, there was a pit with a recess, leading to the area below. It must have fallen along with the collapsed ceiling.

"I’ll go verify what that thing is," Bologue indicated the next steps, "then you..."

Bologue paused, a chilling atmosphere spreading around Palmer.

At this moment, Palmer was facing away from Bologue, his Ether response becoming somewhat weak. It seemed that killing Ernan had taken a considerable amount of effort.

Morrison lay in a pool of blood, his breath faltering.

As a Negative Power User, Morrison seldom appeared so haggard, but he had encountered Bologue, and the Vengeful Saw Axe had almost pierced through most of his chest, while Protection·Soul Sucking and Essence Stealing had taken away the majority of his Ether. 𝑓𝘳𝑒𝑒𝓌𝘦𝘣𝘯ℴ𝑣𝘦𝑙.𝘤𝑜𝑚

The only reason Morrison could still breathe was due to the remnants of Ether inside him, barely maintaining his Etherealization.

Like a countdown to death, the Ether inside him was being consumed bit by bit. When the Ether is completely exhausted, Etherealization will end, and Morrison will die like an ordinary human.

"Palmer."

Bologue called out his partner’s name, gently pulling the chain wrapped around his wrist, and the Rancor Bite embedded in the ground swiftly retracted.

"Proceed with the original plan. I’ll check on that monstrous thing and search for the Shadow King," Bologue turned around, back-to-back with Palmer, "as for you, once you finish him off, leave here quickly."

"Alright."

An icy note came from Palmer’s mouth. Upon hearing his response, Bologue breathed a sigh of relief and leaped into the pit below, disappearing into the darkness.

The scene only left Palmer and Morrison, an unbearable silence persisted for a long time, and the surroundings echoed with continuous rumbling, as if they were about to collapse again.

"Ha..."

Suddenly Palmer laughed, though his expression was bitter, as he laughed and shook his head.

Morrison couldn’t comprehend what this lunatic was thinking. While struggling to survive, Morrison pondered how to live, cautiously moving his fingers, trying to grasp the Secret Sword soaked in the blood pool.

Sharp pain erupted, and Morrison let out a painful roar, only to see a Flying Knife piercing through his hand, nailing it to the ground.

Palmer’s eyes took on a hint of madness, like being influenced by blood aura, he became cold and terrifying.

"Finally caught you, Morrison." Palmer said.

"Who exactly are you?"

Morrison couldn’t understand; he had never seen Palmer before and wasn’t even clearly aware of any grudge between them.

"That’s not important."

Palmer said as he opened the Storm Feather, the single Flying Knife in his hand splitting into two.

Morrison realized he had no chance of winning, glancing up with a faint smile on his face bathed in foul blood, he said to Palmer.

"I surrender, you’ve caught me, take me back to your prison."

This was his only chance for survival. Live first, counterattack later.

Palmer ignored Morrison’s words, seemingly enlightened in some way.

"Violence fosters peace."

When he uttered this sentence, Palmer’s demeanor was surprisingly reverent, as if reciting some Holy Words.

Palmer laughed again, squatting next to Morrison, fiddling with the Flying Knife while asking, "What do you think of my partner? A complete maniac for violence, right?"

Morrison didn’t know what Palmer intended to do, but just as Palmer said, Bologue gave Morrison the impression of a bloodthirsty lunatic. However, now Palmer seemed to be equally unhinged; neither of them were good people.

Holding onto his wound, Morrison gasped painfully, seeing his state, Palmer continued.

"When I first partnered with him, every time I watched him fight, I felt quite disgusted," Palmer frowned, "it wasn’t really fighting, more like slaughter... butchering."

While speaking, Palmer took a syringe from the pouch at his waist, inside the glass tube flowed dazzling silver light.

"Do you understand what I mean? Everyone fights with certain intentions, for benefit, but he was different; he found simple enjoyment in killing."

Palmer showed obvious dislike, "Wow, truly a crazy psychopath killer."

The needle pierced Morrison’s body, and amid Morrison’s dazed expression, a large amount of Mang Silver Soul was injected into his body, allowing his Etherealization to sustain, and with more Mang Silver Soul, Morrison could resume fighting.

Negative Power Users weren’t entirely mortal anymore; as long as their bodies didn’t endure outright lethal injuries, they could rely on Etherealization to linger, even suppress injuries, and return to battle.

What Palmer was doing now was unmistakably "healing" Morrison, yet Morrison couldn’t understand why.

"Later I heard some of his past stories, tales of hatred, which made me slightly revise my opinion of him, yet I still couldn’t grasp his brutality, let alone understand his Savor spirit."

Palmer commented, "What is he thinking? Does he think he’s the protagonist of a movie?"