Bologue asked calmly, "Are you Adelle?"

The old man just smiled.

Aimou became alert. She remembered this name, the one who once saved Bologue. The power of the Confession Song had stirred such visions in Bologue. With his persistence, he might completely sink into it.

She didn’t want to doubt Bologue’s willpower, but she couldn’t judge the connection between Bologue and Adelle. Perhaps Bologue would really stay because of this, as long as Adelle reached out to him.

Just as Aimou was trying to find a way to break the deadlock, Bologue took a deep breath and asked again, "If you really are Adelle... what would you do?"

The old man still wore that smile and spoke softly.

"You should leave now, Bologue."

Bologue’s expression suddenly relaxed, and he smiled with relief, "You truly are Adelle."

Faced with such a strange conversation, Aimou was completely at a loss.

Then Bologue said, "That strange illusion must be fabricating visions based on our memories, using beautiful dreams to trap us."

Aimou whispered, "But she... she released you."

"Because that is indeed something Adelle would do."

Mentioning all this with a tone laced with pride, Bologue looked at the young woman in front of him and praised her, "You are still as wonderful as I remember."

After speaking, Bologue held Aimou’s hand tightly, "It’s time to take me away."

...

The power of the Seeker of Glory was approaching. Perhaps it was because of being visited by the Death God too many times today, that when the First Seat descended, Geoffrey felt no fear at all. Instead, there was a profound sense of calm in his heart.

Geoffrey knew very clearly that he couldn’t withstand the First Seat. He could only muster all his strength to throw Xilin forcefully into the distance, using this slight action to resist the First Seat.

Thinking of this, Geoffrey suddenly found it somewhat laughable. Under the pressure of such power, what they could do seemed so little.

Xilin’s body landed heavily on the distant flat ground, raising a cloud of dust. Geoffrey fell to the ground in exhaustion, only to see a blood-colored figure sweeping past overhead, trailing white mist behind. The moment the mist touched Geoffrey, numerous wrinkles appeared on his face, and a few strands of his hair turned white.

Geoffrey was about to suffocate.

A howl followed the First Seat. Just as he passed Geoffrey, rushing towards Xilin, a slight pain came from his back, where an almost shattered dagger was embedded.

In the distance, Bologue was struggling to climb up from a pool of blood, raising his hand, maintaining a throwing posture.

After countless battles, the Phantom Dagger finally reached its breaking point.

In an instant, the Ether roared, erupting and twisting at the First Seat’s back.

Bologue’s power indeed couldn’t interfere with the First Seat, but what about using Ether and borrowing the power of a twisting path?

The shattering of the Phantom Dagger set off a distortion of the path, instantly forming a huge sphere where the space and time inside became unstable, as if ready to collapse at any moment. The shattered edges flickered with Thunder, completely enveloped in energy.

The distorted path directly covered most of the First Seat’s body. Though it couldn’t kill the First Seat, it drastically slowed his speed. His entire figure seemed delayed, with currents attacking flesh and fractured paths carving countless blood marks on his body.

This was Bologue’s limit. Everyone had reached their limit. What happened next would be up to Nesanel.

With a roar, the golden lion crushed the ground beneath its feet.

The First Seat stretched out his hand, infinitely reaching for the person lying on the ground. Just as he was about to touch them, a blood-colored Cross Sword Light blossomed out of nowhere.

The path was torn apart again, and a blurred figure emerged from the Cross Sword Light, standing directly beside Xilin’s body. Under the First Seat’s gaze, they grabbed it in their arms.

"Stop!"

The First Seat roared in anger, launched himself in front of that person with unimaginable speed, slicing off their head with a single sword strike just as they emerged from the Cross Sword Light. In the next moment, the head was thrown high, the headless body stiffened for a few seconds before falling straight to the ground.

A twisted, aberrant hand reached for Xilin. The First Seat was filled with a torrent of exhilaration; he was finally going to get Xilin. But at that moment, a faster blade tore through the air.

Seeing this scene, Nesanel knew he could no longer protect Xilin’s body, so he made the most reckless decision.

The Secret Energy·Daylight generated tremendous heat, almost burning the Immovable Sword red. With the Extreme Realm’s Ethereal Amplification infused into the blade, he threw it like a meteor, aiming it at Xilin’s body, determined to reduce it to ashes at the point of contact.

The First Seat raised the Sword of Confession to block, and after the booming impact, the Sword of Confession was knocked aside, the arm holding the sword also shattered by the transmitted force. The Immovable Sword pierced through the First Seat’s body, then penetrated Xilin’s body, nailing it into the ground. After shattering several tens of meters, it deeply embedded into the earth before finally halting.

The First Seat stared blankly at the impaled body. He roared madly in frenzy.

"How dare you!"

He cursed at Nesanel.

Nesanel sneered disdainfully. He had long wanted to do this, to personally destroy Xilin. But in the next moment, Nesanel’s expression froze, and his body stood as if frozen, rooted to the ground.

It wasn’t just Nesanel; Bologue, Geoffrey, and in the distance, Palmer and Lebius—all who could witness this battlefield were stunned.

In a dimly lit room, Mammon slowly stood up from behind the television screen. Underneath the giant screen, where Belphegor, observing everything through Lebius’ perspective, watched the screen with a blank stare. An image beyond his anticipation unfolded.

In the gray-white world, the Astronaut raised his head, looking at the azure-clear planet, speaking softly.

"Welcome back."

The First Seat slowly turned his head, following their gazes. He saw the scar in the lacerated earth, where the figure that was supposed to have died slowly stood up. He grasped the hilt of the Immovable Sword and gradually pulled it out from his abdomen; not a single drop of blood flowed from the wound, only pure Ether was flowing.

He opened his eyes, his pupils like glistening gold, coldly surveying everyone on the battlefield.

The First Seat’s heart utterly chilled; his cognition fell into complete disarray. He couldn’t comprehend what was happening before him. Yet, in that moment, his instincts made the decision for him—almost involuntarily, he began to move his body, attempting to flee the battlefield.

He couldn’t win. In his current state, facing this returning being, he had no chance at all.

However, as soon as the First Seat made a move, his entire person froze in place. It wasn’t fear that paralyzed him but another power that completely restrained him, as if countless giant hands gripped every inch of his torso and locked every joint of his skeleton.

Struggling, the First Seat turned his head and saw the Celestial God raising his hand, intricate patterns emerging and shining on his arm. He made a choking gesture, and the ethereal chains utterly dominated the First Seat’s body.

Secret Energy·Royal Domain.

Xilin clenched his fist forcefully. The chains tightened, and like ripe fruit turned rotten, the First Seat’s body was squeezed, spraying a deluge of blood that transformed into a rain of blood.