In a foggy world, Aimou carried Xilin as she sprinted, Geoffrey closely following beside her, guarding her progress, with waves of ethereal fluctuation hauntingly echoing from behind, unimaginable battles raging there.

Aimou didn’t ponder further; her mind was solely fixed on the task of getting Xilin out, a mission handed to her by Bologue, which she was determined to complete at any cost.

"In crucial moments, it’s better to lose mutually than allow him to win."

Bologue’s voice echoed in Aimou’s mind, causing her to clench her fists tightly, her side-glance directed at Xilin.

Aimou understood Bologue’s intention was clear; when she found herself unable to protect Xilin, she could kill him, utterly destroying his body.

"Xilin..." Aimou called softly.

Xilin Kagader, it was his ambush that indirectly led to Aimou’s creation, weaving countless threads of connection between them.

Thinking now of Teda’s hatred for Xilin, Aimou’s mind churned with confusion.

Aimou didn’t dwell too much; the crisis-ridden situation strained everyone’s nerves, her sole focus was running wildly, her steel body efficient and precise, feeling no fatigue.

Vaguely, Aimou suddenly felt a slight anomaly from her shoulder, she turned to look at Xilin, he remained unchanged, showing no abnormalities.

Just as Aimou dispelled her doubts, she sensed another anomaly; although her steel body lost much perception, some fundamental capabilities remained.

While carrying Xilin in their escape, as Xilin disengaged from the container’s constraints, Aimou astonishingly sensed trace warmth emanating from him.

Aimou wanted to say something to Geoffrey, but he was bleeding from both ears, his hearing severely compromised, the sounds reaching his ears transformed into incoherent murmurs.

Only Aimou was left to experience this eerie sensation alone.

Aimou couldn’t believe it, yet strange thoughts kept surfacing from her mind.

Perhaps... perhaps Xilin isn’t dead.

Unsure if it was overwhelming pressure or residual influence from the Heart-devouring Song causing self-induced hallucinations.

Aimou not only felt the warmth from Xilin, she even hallucinated hearing his heartbeat from within, as if the container had eternally frozen Xilin at the moment of death, but now freed from its constraints, the powers of Seeker of Glory were gradually reviving within him.

Unable to comprehend... Aimou was perplexed, for a brief moment having a nearly mad idea.

To use Heart Overlapping Shadow on Xilin, exploring his inner psyche, if he still had such a thing as mind.

Aimou ultimately didn’t act on it, she dared not continue thinking, focusing instead on sprinting forward, but in the next instant, an even colder chill swept through her mind.

The surrounding temperature abruptly dropped a few degrees, the earth beneath her feet grew a thin layer of ice, unnoticed, coils of white mist enveloped Aimou.

Something was approaching.

Aimou turned her head to see a dim figure cleaving through the mist, rushing toward her, the Skull Scythe swelling rapidly in her eyes.

The Death God arrives.

A streak of Canyin’s golden light scattered; its radiance failed to illuminate the chill of death as blood brimmed Geoffrey’s eyes, he tried to intimidate the First Seat, but the tier disparity between them was too vast, Geoffrey’s interference proved useless.

The Skull Scythe scraped the air, its shrill whistling like a multitude of ghosts howling, its lethal arc directly enveloping Aimou and Geoffrey, when the swing completed, the two would surely be cut down like straw.

Aimou reached out her hand, attempting to push Geoffrey aside; due to her body’s peculiar nature, her thoughts often unknowingly aligned with Bologue’s, figuring her essence being an Alchemy Puppet meant as long as her Constant Motion Core remained intact, she could be repaired even if limbs severed or bisected.

She planned to use herself as a shield to block the strike, but the First Seat was too swift, even though Aimou’s consciousness kept pace, her body’s delay still made it impossible.

Despair flooded her mind, and just as everything was about to be swallowed by gray bleakness, that faint Canyin’s golden light suddenly surged, accompanied by dazzling brilliance and heat, seemingly aiming to dispel all chill and despair.

A blazing sun arose, scorching away the surrounding mist.

It was then Aimou realized, this wasn’t Geoffrey’s desperate final blow; instead, the hidden lion had seized the opportunity, determined to clamp down and bite through the First Seat’s throat with one bite.

The First Seat’s descending slash froze, a powerful hand directly seized the scythe blade, the scythe, capable of severing life, rendered immobile in his grasp, his hand clenched tight, dense cracks spread along the blade, edges crumbling into fine dust.

"Deputy... Deputy Director."

Aimou’s voice brimmed with reverence, while Geoffrey was stunned beside her.

Nesanel stood between them and the First Seat, under the lion mask, blazed an eye-catching golden light, so mismatched with this dim world.

Without any forewarning, the ether flood of the Glory Holder Tier erupted instantaneously, the highly concentrated energy formed a conical stormfront before Nesanel, the First Seat seeming besieged by a thousand swords, fierce sparks dazzlingly danced across his form, further ravaging his already battered armor.

Amid eerie groans, flesh swelled once more from the armor’s crevices, transforming into blood-soaked tumorous growths.