After withstanding dozens of assaults from the white mist, the flames weakened, and the Shadow King finally repelled the relentless encroaching force.

A flicker of unyielding determination flashed in the Shadow King’s eyes. He resolutely decided to no longer evade this battle. The fire sword in his hand emitted a piercing buzz, and the sword body gradually turned dark and heavy.

Mechanical sounds resonated from beneath the jet-black armor. As built-in needles pierced the withered body, a copious amount of Mang Silver Souls were injected within. Simultaneously, the unhealable wounds of the Shadow King were pre-filled with crimson Philosopher’s Stones, allowing him to draw Ether at will.

These Philosopher’s Stones and Mang Silver Souls acquired from trading with Mammon were precisely prepared for this decisive moment.

Under his control, the gathered Ether erupted into a dazzling torrent of fire, heat condensed to a high degree, resembling a crimson line, incinerating everything in its path.

All the white mist became as fragile as glass in that instant, shattering into countless specks of dust.

The First Seat emitted a peculiar wail, impossible for any human, while wielding the Great Scythe. The spreading Sea of Mist continued to rise and swirl, shaping ghostly figures that converged into an army of destruction, surging toward the center of the white mist.

The Shadow King saw countless bone-white mists intertwining, the energy forming a giant serpent-like shape, compressing the center of the white mist into a small area in an instant, like a venomous snake striking.

During the compression, the Power of Destruction multiplied, making the air seem as though it were being torn apart. Subsequently, an incredibly pure fire stream was again released from the fire sword, like seawater washing over sand, starting to scour all the surrounding white mist.

The Shadow King advanced with large strides, steam jetting from his back, while several spent containers ejected, crashing to the ground.

The Shadow King knew all too well what kind of person his opponent was—cold-blooded, evil, arrogant yet cautious and vigilant.

The First Seat did not opt for direct combat but instead persistently wore himself out. The Shadow King suspected that he feared him; feared that during the many years at the Great Rift, he might have traded with Mammon for some unknown power.

Indeed, the First Seat was too aware of how terrifying the Devil’s power was, as he himself hosted the power of the Devil, that lady’s servant.

"What are you wary of!" the Shadow King challenged, "I am not like you!"

The First Seat remained indifferent, a pair of cold eyes examining the Shadow King from the darkness beneath the hood.

The Shadow King had changed.

The First Seat thought to himself; he knew his brother’s character well. However, ever since the end of the secret war, when he ambushed him, the First Seat had detected an anomaly— the Shadow King had become strange, no longer the familiar blood kin.

Ah well, what does it matter? Everyone is constantly changing, like him, like... himself.

The Shadow King’s approach stirred a series of supernatural phenomena. As if exhausting all his power, a vast amount of Ether gathered at the sword’s tip, the concentrated energy like a miniature sun, scorching all the white mist that came close.

With each breath, the flames surged rhythmically, an unavoidable entropy, each wave larger than the last, eventually eradicating all the white mist.

In the moment of incineration, the Shadow King reached the First Seat.

The Blazing Fire Sword was raised high, and the skull’s Great Scythe swung in a deadly arc.

With a resounding explosion, a more formidable power erupted. The face-off between the Seekers of Glory unleashed Ether destruction beyond what the Material Realm could hold, causing this area of reality to begin crumbling.

Numerous natural phenomena alternated in the high-density Ether, gases forming small clouds, bright lightning breaking through, thunderous roars ceaseless, as if the whole world were being torn apart.

The thundering Vibration rippled outward, the Fog Abyss Fortress completely collapsed, and the entire cliff face began to crumble, the earthquake quickly spreading to the surrounding outer regions.

The Fourth Seat, still fighting, sensed the coming shockwave, immediately followed by Ether ripples sweeping over a large crowd, even the Sea of Mist being stirred.

The Great Rift was in continuous Vibration; even the peripheral Lebius and Red Dog felt the anomaly, and then streams of airflow erupted at high speed, propping up towering, long-lasting pillars of air.

The shock wave swept towards the outer city districts of the Great Rift, tall buildings began to shake. Amidst the terrified cries of the citizens, cracks spread across the surfaces of walls.

The Vibration also triggered deeper disasters, fire hydrants bursting one after another, jets of water rising in succession. After a brief pause, the underground gas pipelines, influenced by the Ethereal Shock, slightly distorted reality, causing a chain of explosions.

Disaster came suddenly, hot air surged out from the Great Rift, shockwaves overturning street vehicles, knocking down countless citizens, the hot air filled with ashes permeating the surrounding air, some citizens desperately clasped their throats, struggling to breathe.

The power of the Seekers of Glory converged into a terrifying tide, engulfing the entire battlefield, reducing everything to ashes.

Amidst the relentless destruction, Bologue struggled to open his eyes. After a brief rest, he resurrected again, pushing off the stone slab pressing on him, experiencing a moment of disorientation. Then, amidst the rumbling quakes, he fled toward the outside without looking back.

This is a conspiracy! Bologue almost shouted out.

There is no absolute justice or evil, only positions based on interests.

Weighing the pros and cons, the Shadow King chose to cooperate with Bologue, leveraging his Undying Body, to push Bologue out of the battlefield, carrying the news of the First Seat’s appearance to the Order Bureau.

More unacceptable than being slain by the Order Bureau was dying at the hands of the First Seat.

Bologue commanded the descending boulders, striding over the ruins. By now, the Fog Abyss Fortress was completely gone, leaving only yet-to-be-fully-collapsed colossal remains.

The King’s Secret Sword was not to be fully trusted, evident from the First Seat’s secret infiltration; who knows what he would do after slaying the Shadow King?

Bologue thought about it — seizing Xilin’s corpse, achieving multiple goals at once. It’s even possible the King’s Secret Sword still had the strength to inflict some degree of damage on Oubos.

Crazy ideas filled Bologue’s mind. Ignoring his Ether’s depletion, he desperately fled towards the end of the ruins.

The Fourth Seat finished off the last Silver Knight, the shattered Alchemy Puppet falling into the Sea of Mist, disappearing without a trace.

Feeling the heart-palpitating Ethereal Fluctuation from afar, the Fourth Seat looked at the Silent Ones, who had reached the Defender Tier.

"Shall we continue?" the Fourth Seat asked.

The Silent One hesitated for a moment. Obviously, the First Seat’s appearance was beyond his expectations too.

A mist swept by, and the Silent One’s figure vanished from the battlefield, seeing this, the Fourth Seat breathed a sigh of relief. Mammon was a smart Devil, he knew how to maximize benefits.

The Shadow King could no longer survive. Mammon’s investment failed. His only way out now was to not interfere with the King’s Secret Sword any further, letting them and the Order Bureau fight to the death.

Time passed, days changed, and the old outcomes replayed once again at this moment.