Endless Debt

Chapter 1180 - 27: Champion_2

"Thorny Pain Lock."York whispered; it seemed to be the name of the chain.

He bowed his head, praying devoutly, seeking the power encircling the small town, the crimson chains moving silently, like a thorn-covered python, silently coiling around York’s body.

York seemed completely unaware of this, the power of evil frenzy squirming continuously in his shadow, until a crimson, seemingly burning figure started manifesting little by little.

He was not complete, just a shattered figure, lowering his head, pouring out thousands of words to York, all filled with frenzied rage.

As if possessing a certain connection, far on the other side of Gray Stone Town, a sleeping beast heard the same call.

Bologue suddenly sat up on the bed, eyes piercing, scanning the narrow room, all his muscles tensed for a good while before slowly relaxing.

What happened?

Bologue pressed his palm against his chest, having suddenly felt a vague palpitating anxiety during his sleep, like being targeted by an enemy, filled with a bloody malice.

He thought he had been attacked, but upon waking, everything was normal, without the slightest hint of anomaly.

Bologue scanned the room but still couldn’t find the slightest irregularity. He pushed open the window; the town was pitch black, extremely quiet.

He rubbed his forehead; Bologue found it hard to fall back asleep. After pondering for a while, he picked up a case and took out the weapon inside.

For Bologue, maintaining weapons is a great way to relieve stress and pass the time. The first he took out was the jet-black Grudge Bite, it seemed like an absolutely dark shadow, as if all light couldn’t illuminate it, only its keen edge revealed its outline.

When Bologue tried to retrieve another weapon, the Vengeful Saw Axe, his hand paused mid-air, a thick stench of blood wafted from the case, faintly, Bologue could hear the sound of blood trickling.

Reaching into the darkness, he seized the greasy, leather grip like human skin, pulling out the hand axe, and saw that the hand axe now exuded an intensely twisted and malevolent aura, the rust on the blade’s surface, like wounds, slowly oozing fresh blood.

Although having used this weapon for a long time, it was the first time Bologue had seen it like this, full of bizarre sensation.

"The Original Sin Armament attracts each other until only one champion is left."

Sai Zong’s words echoed in his ears, making Bologue attribute the anomaly to this mutual attraction.

Bologue wondered, when the holders of the Original Sin Armament battle each other and a single victor emerges, the ultimate champion will undoubtedly gather the full power of the Eyes of Eternal Fury, what would happen then?

This was something Bologue could not understand, even though he tried hard to comprehend the world’s shadows, numerous unresolved mysteries still lingered in his mind.

But more than these distant future concerns, Bologue was more focused on the present.

"Is there another holder of an Original Sin Armament in this town?"

Bologue tightened his grip on the hand axe, feeling its warmth and constant agitation; perhaps this palpitation also originated from the Vengeful Saw Axe, having sensed another Original Sin Armament, eager to battle it out and determine victory.

"Kill him, Bologue."

A ghostly voice whispered in Bologue’s ear.

"Bring me his head."

The shattered figure appeared behind Bologue, this furious Devil cared not for who his Debtor was, nor who wielded the Original Sin Armament, he only cared for blood and death.

"You shall become the champion of blood."

Bologue expressionlessly placed the Vengeful Saw Axe back into the case, the locking clasp largely smothering the malevolent fluctuations.

The frenzied voices had no effect on Bologue; he was long accustomed to dancing with wolves, this level of influence wasn’t even enough to alert him.

Unfortunately, his good sleep was disrupted, and Bologue sat in the chair until sunlight slowly tore through the darkness, a dim light finding its way through the rift and fog, struggling to reach Gray Stone Town.

Stepping out of the inn, the cold, damp air perked Bologue up a bit, the towering cliffs obscuring most of the light, with thick fog gathering at the base; at moments it felt like another hesitant crossroads, just much less sordid here.

The sky was overcast; Bologue waited a while until Aimou stretched lazily and shuffled out.

"How did you sleep?" Bologue asked.

"Not bad," Aimou yawned, "I don’t have high requirements for sleeping environments."

Aimou surveyed Bologue, "You don’t look like you slept well."

"A bit of insomnia." Bologue didn’t mention anything about the Original Sin Armament.

"You actually have insomnia?"

"Too many things on my mind."

"Like what?"

"Like this town definitely isn’t as simple as it looks," Bologue glanced around, Gray Stone Town awakening from the night, "But oddly, it’s too normal, as if someone is consciously maintaining order here."

"Any discoveries?" Aimou moved closer to Bologue, standing by his side.

Bologue didn’t speak, but slowly bowed his head, looking at his abdomen.

The phantom umbilical cord flickering indistinctly, sometimes pointing south, sometimes north, like wild dancing tendrils, swaying incessantly; Bologue once thought it was the force from the Great Rift interfering with his perception, but with some thought, such interference hadn’t occurred during his previous actions within Opus.

Bologue realized, perhaps it wasn’t his umbilical cord failing, but the town was filled with entities related to the Devil, lurking in every corner, repeatedly identified by the umbilical cord.

"The Gray Stone Rift is a crucial passage," Bologue suddenly spoke to himself, "From here, one can directly reach the depths of the Great Rift, touching the Abandoned Land."

Bologue questioned Aimou, "Who among our enemies would be so fixated on this passage?"

"The Sect of Crimson Corruption."

Aimou’s voice turned somewhat hollow; she still remembered the distortion of this world’s Calamity, and its origin.

"Hmm," Bologue nodded slightly, saying casually, "Seems like we know who our enemy is now."

The Sect of Crimson Corruption was an old foe for Bologue; even before the disorder event on the timeline, he had been relentlessly combating them, even fallen into the Abandoned Land, witnessing the existence of this world’s Calamity.

"Need to request aid from the Order Bureau?" Aimou asked.

"No need," Bologue shook his head, "Just reporting the situation is enough; as for here, I think I can handle it alone."

"Isn’t this a bit too confident?"

"Just a clear understanding of my own capabilities," Bologue exhaled deeply, "Even facing a Defender, I still possess the capacity to counter."

"Let’s go, Aimou."

As Bologue spoke, he glanced down at his abdomen, trying to find a clear direction from that flickering umbilical cord.

"Bologue."

Aimou suddenly called Bologue’s name; he turned to look at her, "What is it?"

After hesitating for a moment, Aimou said, "Regarding the Sect of Crimson Corruption and this world’s Calamity... I’ve been pondering something; I’m not sure about your thoughts on it."

"What?"

"According to the records, the essence of this world’s Calamity is the Demon, degenerates from humans who have lost their souls, but unlike many Demons we’ve slain, it originated from a Seeker of Glory."

Aimou’s voice turned somewhat tense, "So, could there be corresponding this world’s Calamities for other great sins?"

"Could it be that there’s only this one Calamity in the world?"