The scythe blade nailed into the ground, forcing the First Seat to retreat over ten meters before coming to a halt.

As Nesanel strode forward, even in the absence of flames, a distinct rise in temperature could be felt. The mist dissipated into nothingness, clearing the path in an instant. With the blazing sun cast by burning ether, a fiery hue spread over his robes and mask.

Nesanel continued onward, leaving behind a golden trail several meters long, emanating from the mane of his mask, scorching like flames.

As Aimou stood in a stupor, Geoffrey reached out and pulled her, his voice hoarse, "We need to get out of here."

Aimou belatedly felt the surging heat; the moist mist evaporated, the air rapidly dried, even the blood turned into a pungent gas dissipating away, and sweat covered Geoffrey’s forehead.

Once they were caught in the Seekers of Glory’s battle, the terrifying aftermath alone would be enough to kill them.

"First Seat."

A profound voice echoed from beneath the lion mask, and Nesanel nodded slightly to the First Seat.

"Nesanel."

The First Seat returned the gesture.

The two faced off, neither initiating an attack. Yet beneath this semblance of calm, the ether reactions rapidly surged, ascending. Summoned by the Seekers of Glory, the world seemed to form a funnel as ethers roared in from all directions, converging in their hands.

If Aimou had Spirit Vision Liquid now, she would see through this unique fluid, two golden storms gradually forming before her eyes.

High concentrations of ether gathered here swiftly consumed even the Blight of Decay, leaving only ether’s wild revelry.

"Extraordinary disaster..."

Carrying Xilin, as she ran, Aimou glanced back, muttering involuntarily.

In the Extraordinary World, it is a common understanding that when a Seeker of Glory unleashes his full strength, the ether he calls upon mingles with his own Secret Energy... Each Seeker of Glory is essentially a walking Extraordinary disaster.

Now, two natural catastrophes collided into one another.

Aimou felt no excitement of being saved, only an incessantly growing pressure. She didn’t think she could survive amidst the Seekers of Glory’s battle.

The high concentration of ether was about to overwhelm reality; customary principles were teetering on the brink of collapse.

Nesanel took another step forward, closing the distance with the First Seat. As his foot touched the ground, molten lava immediately scorched a trail like blood flowing.

The First Seat felt parched; all moisture in the air had been scorched dry. If this continued, Nesanel would turn this place into a burning Hell.

Their gazes collided, the implication clear.

The figures twisted, as if disappearing into thin air, and in the next moment, a battle beyond sensory comprehension erupted. Nesanel shot forth like a golden meteor, his position rapidly shifting with each flicker of light, delivering heavy punches beside the First Seat.

For a moment, the First Seat couldn’t match Nesanel’s speed. It made sense; Nesanel was younger, his Alchemy Matrix several generations advanced, not to mention, he wielded the Power of the Extreme Realm, the most aggressive Seeker of Glory in the Order Bureau’s history.

In yet another collision, the First Seat’s power fully unfolded, and ether built an unshakeable barrier around him. Nesanel used no weapon, just his heavy punches, shattering the barrier to pieces.

Flames sprouted, billowing everywhere around Nesanel, exuding a frenzied temperature. Under high concentrations of ether, the material world began to distort, the laws of reality crumbling, the ground beneath him cracked open, and burning lava surged from the fissures.

As he swung his fists, the flames moved with them, and destructive power instantly transmitted. In that instant, Nesanel seemed to transform into a Flame Demon, destroying everything with uncontainable heat.

In a flash, all mist dispersed, forming a vacuum zone around the two.

The First Seat seized a moment of respite, wielding the Great Scythe, a strange wind roared in the darkness. Under its drive, cold white mist surged upwards, enveloping the surroundings like arms of death.

Everything decrepit along the mist’s path.

Simultaneously, under the hood’s shadow, a cold arc gleamed. The First Seat ceased hiding and fully unleashed his own power.

Secret Energy·Age-Stealing Mist.

From the Glory Holder Tier’s Power of Illusion, the First Seat summoned a vast mist, similar in effect to the Blight of Decay, affecting all material within range, yet its essence remained distinct.

These Age-Stealing Mists, conjured by the First Seat, could accelerate the time of all touched materials a hundredfold, crumbling them in an instant.

Countless foes within the First Seat’s mist, transformed from young men to elders, and again to bones.

The First Seat reveled, as the roaring Sea of Mist surged towards Nesanel like a tide, as if the heavens and earth had collapsed, leaving only the rushing, hazy mist from all sides.

The blurred figures rose endlessly in the mist, appearing like malevolent spirits, attacking alongside the tidal wave.

From within, Nesanel could sense increasingly dense evil power surging with them, as if they would engulf the entire surrounding world in darkness, slowly seeping out, spreading, encompassing everything around.