Endless Debt

It was already too late for everything.

Endless light burst forth from the furnace, and terrifying cracks grew from the surrounding buildings. The heavens and earth trembled as if the entire Supreme Hub would collapse. At this brink of destruction, an inexplicable sense of detachment enveloped everyone, even Nesanel wasn’t spared.

It was a floating sensation as if the soul was separating from the body, but in the next second, they overlapped again, with both feet firmly on solid ground.

Nesanel felt the heavy Ether rushing towards him and the touch of a deep blue at the horizon of his vision. Although it was his first time arriving here, he had already learned enough from Bologue’s report.

"So this is where you wanted to lead me?"

Nesanel’s figure disappeared once more, like a burning meteor, colliding with another member of the Night Race, easily tearing off large chunks of flesh from his pale body.

"A battle isolated from the outside within this overlap point."

The Night Race countered Nesanel’s roar, but a blazing fist pierced easily through his chest. As for the Night Race’s vaunted undying nature, it dissipated completely in the extreme heat.

"No..."

His voice was hoarse, the flames seared through his organs, while faint flames protruded from his throat.

The Night Race tried to mobilize his bloodline power, but as Nesanel calmly withdrew his hand from the large hole in his chest, he realized Nesanel’s fist was adorned with a shimmering silver Finger Tiger.

Deadly silver and fire rampaged within the Night Race’s body, extinguishing any remaining signs of life.

"You really came well-prepared."

Seeing that shining silver, Jos exclaimed, not daring to attack rashly.

"You didn’t think I came unprepared, did you?" Nesanel turned his head, as the Night Race below him turned to ashes and fell.

Since detecting the potential connection between the All Secrets Order and the Night Race... no, even earlier, when the Rebellious Royal Court was active in the Rhine Alliance Territory, Nesanel foresaw the possibility of facing the Night Race.

Thus, Nesanel commissioned the Sublimation Furnace Core to craft a pair of silver-infused Finger Tigers. They shared similarities in nature with the Immovable Sword. Besides being silver to target the Night Race, all the extraordinary characteristics of the gloves were "solidified" to prevent destruction by Nesanel’s glorious power.

Jos took a deep breath, then suddenly let out a sharp howl. Instantly, the scene before Nesanel’s eyes began to twist and crumble, his ability to perceive the world weakening rapidly. In seconds, he could no longer recognize Jos’s specific form, only a writhing black shadow in sight.

The same went for others’ images.

Not only that, abstract concepts grew vague, like a senile elder’s brain, with the nervous system responsible for processing information gradually shutting down.

For others, this might lead to chaotic death, but for Nesanel, it was just a mind-affecting trick.

Burn.

Burn was the only thought left in Nesanel’s head. All the Ether in the Alchemy Matrix obeyed this sole command, directing the Ether from all directions to execute Nesanel’s will.

To scorch, to incinerate, to turn all impurities to ashes.

Before others could approach Nesanel, a blaze rapidly spread through the air, the surrounding temperature soaring sharply. Meanwhile, the flame continued to grow larger, forming a high-temperature, high-pressure fireball.

When even Nesanel couldn’t restrain this blaze, it burst like a ruptured water bubble.

In an instant, the explosive sound that shook the heavens and the earth engulfed everyone’s hearing. Jos only saw a quickly released intense light until the dazzling pure white consumed all vision.

"Damn it!"

Jos cursed, not thinking he could withstand this deadly impact. He had no choice but to retreat, which would undoubtedly allow Nesanel to escape the range of his Secret Energy, regaining his action ability.

No, it can’t be, I can’t let Nesanel go that easily.

High-concentration Ether gathered before Jos, forming a dense Ethereal Barrier. He didn’t retreat but instead advanced, letting the searing winds sweep over him, the heat waves scorching his skin.

But just when Jos thought he was still controlling Nesanel, a slender black shadow rapidly approached him through the firelight.

"Do you think your trap is perfect?"

Amid a furious growl, a heavy punch shot out swiftly from the flames, catching Jos off guard, striking him head-on.

Jos’s vision went dark, unable to feel half of his face. Moments later, pain slowly arrived, as he felt one of his eyes shatter and his skull crack. The lethal silver seeped into his bloodstream, corroding with the strength of strong acid, while flesh rapidly decayed as unquenchable flames burrowed inside him.

"Nesanel!"

Jos opened his remaining eye, his waist’s Sharp Sword thrusting like lightning. But immediately, another heavy punch landed on Jos’s abdomen, sending him flying, rolling several times across the snow-dusted Icefield.

"Ha... ha..."

Jos breathed heavily, the close-range heat having burned his respiratory tract, flesh sticking together, creating an oppressive suffocating sensation.

Fortunately, he was an Undead, and his physical injuries healed rapidly, except for the parts of his head. Under the effect of silver, half of Jos’s skull was split, revealing the flesh beneath. Countless granulation squirmed, but they could never grasp together to close the wound.

Looking again at the approaching Nesanel, with his flying strides, Jos suddenly felt a wave of confusion.

"No... what’s happening?"

Clearly, he had stabbed Nesanel’s heart, and even if Nesanel was a Seeker of Glory, the attack should have had some impact.

The sticky dripping sound caught Jos’s attention. He looked down to see only half his Sharp Sword left, the tip completely melted, turning to molten metal dripping to the ground. Nesanel’s chest bore a shallow sword wound, healing with the etherealized body.

"I never needed any armor, no mundane iron can harm me."

Nesanel’s voice was like the Flame Demon’s low roar. With that extreme heat, any weapon attacking Nesanel would disintegrate into molten metal near his body, flowing past his feet.

Even Alchemy Armament, if its qualitative level was too low, could hardly withstand such immense power.

"Is this the pure Seeker of Glory?"

Jos smiled helplessly. Despite having the Aurora Power, they only gained a false Tier. Even with numerous forces, they struggled to exert pressure on Nesanel.

Several members of the Night Race sprinted silently to Nesanel’s side. They were mostly the enhanced Defenders, but Nesanel didn’t even glance at them. Casually swinging a fist, he shattered one’s skull, then grabbed another’s arm, swinging him forcefully like a wild dog, smashing him to the ground, turning him into a pool of sticky blood froth.

The Night Race’s blood covered Nesanel’s fists, the combination of blood and silver crackling with a sound like sparks.

Jos looked at the approaching Flame Demon, realizing deeply that only another Seeker of Glory could contest a Seeker of Glory.

Thus, an ethereal reaction of a Seeker of Glory emerged behind Nesanel. It wasn’t a false presence bolstered by Aurora Power but a true, genuine glorious dominance.

Nesanel turned, seeing Jiru stepping from the Material Realm into the Ethereal Realm.

"I remember you, Legislator." Nesanel proclaimed loudly.

"To be remembered by you is truly awe-inspiring."

Jiru clenched his fists, gathering his strength.

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