On the clamorous and dark battlefield, the Ether reaction of the third Seeker of Glory surged up like another blazing sun in daylight.

The First Seat’s figure was frozen mid-air, as if gripped by an invisible hand, his bones gradually crushed under the force, deforming violently with a painful crack, blood churning inside his body, ravaging every vein, cleansing his innards, and spurting from his wounds like a ruptured waterskin, drying rapidly.

Like a slow and cruel execution, the First Seat’s limbs twisted and deformed, muscles writhing like venomous snakes, his face pale, eyes filled only with painful moans and a madness shrouded with miasma, constantly hearing the sound of bones breaking and flesh tearing apart with horrific screams, the thick scent of blood saturating the air.

The First Seat could feel the fire of his life rapidly waning, on the verge of collapse. He tried to resist, the power innate to a Seeker of Glory expanded explosively, the power from the Crimson Queen churned within his stomach as well. Since ten bones had been broken, he would proliferate a hundred.

Unconsciously, the First Seat was gradually losing his humanoid form, transforming instead into a wildly grown flesh construct, forcibly breaking free from the invisible restraint.

Observing the writhing, maniacal and horrific figure, Bologue recalled the calamity buried beneath the Great Rift of this world.

The First Seat’s body deformed, rapidly swelling muscles mercilessly crushed his crimson blood vessels, causing them to bloom amidst screams, his reason nearly completely lost, lashing out with fangs and claws, teeth and nails growing sharper as they deformed.

"Xilin!"

The voice of bitter resentment floated from his bloodstained throat, calling forth like a Word Spirit, completely awakening the resurrected Celestial God.

The First Seat didn’t understand, unable to accept it. "How could it be you? How is it possible?"

Someone who was supposed to be dead stood before him once more. The First Seat knew very well what this meant: the one most capable of overthrowing the royal family had returned.

But... but he had been dead for so long...

The First Seat recalled that Cross Sword Light, and the person he casually killed, the corpse lying not far away, blood seemingly drained, forming a small puddle.

"What did he do?" the First Seat questioned.

The marble-like face gradually shed its rigid coldness; after a brief adaptation, Xilin regained control of this body, reclaiming the power of a Seeker of Glory.

Xilin shook his head, not answering the First Seat’s question, a hint of a bloodthirsty smile playing at his indifferent lips.

"Long time no see," Xilin spoke, "First Seat."

In response to Xilin was a roar from the First Seat, who readily abandoned the side of the Order Bureau, roaring as he slashed his Sword of Confession toward Xilin.

The Age-Stealing Mist surged wildly, rolling like a tsunami advancing, engulfing the earth in an instant. Even solid rocks crumbled to dust the moment they were touched, the pervasive dust quickly pushed forward, transforming into a wall of death advancing.

Within the mist came indistinct sounds, at times a droning hum, at others beast-like roars, one phantom-like, ghostly figure after another emerged within the mist, wielding swords, spears, and halberds, slicing everything in their path, whether steel or flesh, reducing it all to dust.

Xilin stepped toward the mist, this body had been floating in the container for so long that even the muscles were stiff. He needed time to adjust.

First step, second step, third step...

Xilin’s steps began light and unsteady, as if he might fall at any moment, but gradually steadied until each step landed heavy as a boulder.

Rising alongside this was the power being constantly reawakened.

Blessing: Incarnation.

The power derived from Envy’s Leviathan, allowing Xilin’s soul to freely exchange with another’s, provided they sacrificed themselves.

This was a blessing that bestowed Xilin with immortality, a secret energy that allowed him to feign death, avoiding all gazes.

Sometimes Xilin wondered if acquiring such a blessing was destined by Leviathan, a seed sown for everything now.

The foundation of a Condenser was frequently mentioned in the "Golden Thesis," the fundamental basis of all extraordinary knowledge.

The trinity of body, mind, and spirit.

The Alchemy Matrix was birthed from such a constitution, inscribed into the soul, mapped onto the body, controlled by the will of the mind.

A misalignment of body, mind, and spirit would silence secret energy, limiting Xilin while in incarnation form, forcing him to rely on external means.

Now, with the Blood Transfer Sword cleaving a path, he manipulated Gray’s body, and at the moment of contact with his own form, his long-lost soul finally returned home.

After many years, Xilin’s body, mind, and spirit were once again pieced together, the trinity awakened the long-dormant Power of Dominance.

Aimou sensed the high concentration of Ether, almost solidified, crushing reality, as Xilin manipulated the Ether of the earth, pseudo energies began to manifest, transforming into numerous radiant lines, spiraling downward onto Xilin’s body.

If Ether had gathered here into a storm, Xilin stood at the storm’s eye.