In the city desolate like ruins, the deafening sound of explosions broke the silence of the night.
Motorcycles weaved agilely through the wreckage, dodging wave after wave of arrows and bullets that raced toward them, while rockets would occasionally explode behind them with unrelenting thunder.
This was already the sixth battle tonight—a deadly relay race, no less.
Deacon Wang of the Judgement Court had fallen.
The You Ying Group had paid a heavy price for it.
Currently, the Ancient God's Blood was in the possession of Instructor Wan from the Omega Sequence.
He was frantically fleeing with a cohort of Fifth Rank Omegas.
A few directors from the You Ying Group were relentlessly chasing them from behind.
The scene was both brutal and somewhat comedic.
Netherworld strolled through the ancient monastery, gazing at the statues standing stoically in the darkness, laughing softly. "Sometimes, even I fail to comprehend human greed. A mere drop of Ancient God's Blood can drive them to such madness. But perhaps it's not so bad after all—the people of the Dark World always carry a hint of savagery. Letting them vent a little is good, isn't it?"
"Ever since King of Qing tore through the Dark World, it's been a long time since I've seen chaos ."
He held paper and pen in his hands, sketching the relics as he walked. "This is what the Dark World should truly look like. I'd love to see the order Aunt has painstakingly maintained be shattered again."
A white-haired, ancient-seeming youth crouched before an old fresco, closely observing the traces of civilization left behind by endless ages. His expression was focused and curious as he murmured, "There was once a time you were the successor chosen by the President. If not for your betrayal, Rhein wouldn't have risen to such heights today."
At first glance, he looked like a mere boy, yet he seemed ageless.
Threads of silver hair stretching three thousand miles, a backward glance betraying an entire lifetime.
"Everything was for the King."
Netherworld replied solemnly, "In this absurd and frenzied world, the King is the only resolution. Unfortunately, Aunt's judgment is far too poor—too indecisive, too archaic in thought."
The boy fell silent for a moment, then shook his head. "Don't say that. Your Aunt has undeniably been one of the top three pillars in human history. Her unmatched accomplishments, daring to challenge even the heavens, speak for themselves. Yet, she came from that era of blood and fire—the civilization of the Ascenders, the order upheld by the Ether Association—these are her everything."
"Anyone who entirely denies their own past ceases to be themselves."
He added, "Even Wang Fusheng must acknowledge the greatness of that order."
Netherworld folded his hands behind his back. "Was that the King's words?"
The boy spoke faintly, "The King's eternal regret is that he cannot prove he is right to others."
Netherworld caressed the diary he carried in his arms, sighing wistfully. "The King is perfectly capable of predicting the future, yet unable to prove he is correct. What a tragic reality that is."
The boy shook his head.
"Foretelling the future has always been a false proposition."
He explained, "Before a prediction unfolds, how can one be sure it is correct?"
The midnight bell tolled, ushering in a new day.
Netherworld opened the diary with anticipation and saw a new page.
This page contained only a single sentence.
"May 6, 2022—Lu Zijin concealed within Dawn City transport team's third division."
Such prophetic miracles had long ceased to surprise the upper echelons of the You Ying Group.
"Why does the King fixate so obsessively on Lu Zijin?"
Netherworld shook his head. "She's just a little girl, nothing more."
The boy chuckled lightly. "You need to understand something."
Netherworld looked up. "What would that be?"
"Everything the King does is part of his ongoing contest with the King of Qing."
The boy shrugged. "If you encounter something incomprehensible, it's likely the King of Qing has placed a bet first, and then the Red King matched it. Until the Ancient Supreme awakens, this world is their chessboard. Red versus Qing, black against white, right and wrong, survival and destruction."
Netherworld laughed softly, "Interesting."
"The Sea of Eternal Life holds significant secrets."
The boy stated calmly, "If I'm not mistaken, there might be a living Primordial there."
Netherworld's pupils narrowed, a madness blooming deep within his gaze.
"I know you're eager. But don't rush. That place isn't somewhere you can access. It deliberately hides there—its dimension doesn't permit someone like you to enter."
The boy snorted, "It must still be left to the younger ones."
Netherworld's gleaming eyes gradually dimmed. "Who will go?"
The boy waved his hand nonchalantly, "Send whoever you please. There's no shortage of people for you to use."
Netherworld seemed surprised. "I thought the Think Tank was here to personally take over."
"It's not yet time for Dusk to take the stage."
The boy sneered, "I'm only here on someone's behalf, merely checking on the children."
Amid collapsing ruins, smoke spread like fog, blotting out the sky and sun.
"Where is the Ancient God's Blood?"
An elder's furious voice roared, "My Ancient God's Blood—where is it?"
Old Master Si bellowed in fury, his frail, hunched body trembling ferociously, almost to the point of coughing up blood.
As the smoke dispersed, all that remained in the rubble was a mangled corpse.
This was his cultivated candidate.
The one who should have carried that drop of Ancient God's Blood to him was now dead beyond redemption.
A hundred candidates from the You Ying Group stood behind him, exchanging uncertain glances and skeptical expressions.
Something felt peculiar.
By all accounts, they had all witnessed the final blow themselves.