The gunshot rang out like a whistle at halftime, temporarily halting all conflicts.

The elder's aged body was heavily injured, and he stood there dazed, the wind pressure he exerted diminishing significantly.

With Vasilina's help, Palmer struggled to stand up. Bologue didn't react, seemingly having passed out, while Aimou was trapped in the rubble, unable to move.

Derby tried hard to suppress the pain in his body, frantically searching for his severed hand. Palmer saw this and, leaning on the Silver Sword, walked towards Derby.

Palmer's fight was not over... It never ended.

Church put away Chekov's Gun. In the Sublimation Furnace Core's rating, Chekov's Gun belonged to the Purifying White level Alchemy Armaments, meaning that to freely use this Alchemy Armament, one needed at least the tier of a Negative Power User.

Generally speaking, it was possible to use the Alchemy Armament across tiers at the tier of Prayer Believers, but the user's ether could not sustain the consumption, making it extremely strenuous.

But as a replica of the Gun of Destiny, Chekov's Gun had very special properties, difficult to reason with common sense.

The properties of Chekov's Gun can be roughly divided into three points. The first is called "Loading," where Chekov's Gun will create bullets in the gun chamber through the illusion at the cost of consuming a large amount of ether. This loading process takes a long time.

Taking Church as an example, it took him a week of continuous ether consumption to successfully create this bullet.

For different tiers and different Condensers, the loading time varies. For this reason, Chekov's Gun is not suitable for emergencies and is mostly used in long-planned assassinations.

After loading the bullet, the second point, "Act One," is triggered. Under the influence of "Act One," the bullet in the chamber will disappear and then appear superimposed on all targets within the "range," which is the area of effect.

Lastly, there is "Act Three," where the user needs to hold the flintlock gun to observe, determine, and aim at their target, so the superimposed state disappears and the bullet is confirmed to exist within the target.

Pulled the trigger, as if time reversed, the bullet burst out of the body and returned to the gun chamber. It looks strange, but looking at it in reverse, Church stealthily hit the elder, who had no power to resist.

The complex and bizarre power ultimately achieved a gunshot like reversing time.

Using clumsy methods such as "Act One" and "Act Three" to cut off the process of "shooting," completing the "gunshot" and "hit." This is precisely the power of Chekov's Gun.

Church didn't like Chekov's Gun; in assassinations, it was indeed very powerful, but also too cumbersome. The various conditions severely limited the occasions for its application.

The overlong loading cycle, range limitations, and massive ether consumption, losing the target would render it impossible to pull the trigger, among other drawbacks.

If given a choice, Church would definitely not use this Alchemy Armament to assassinate enemies, but he had no choice; this time Church's enemy was a Defender.

Launching an attack could be interrupted unless the attack was completed from the beginning.

Apart from the convoluted powers of Chekov's Gun that managed to erase the "shooting" process, other assassination methods could hardly harm the elder.

Even so, Chekov's Gun still couldn't kill the elder. If it were a Negative Power User, this shot would have been fatal, but as a Defender, the elder's body was highly etherealized. He was still alive.

Church leaned against the wall, large beads of sweat dripping down. The consumption of Chekov's Gun on himself was too severe; after this one shot, Church almost lost the ability to continue fighting.

He felt as if all the ether in his body had been drained, and his energy was almost exhausted.

The elder clutched his chest, and soon the blood stopped, as if it had run dry. He raised his head and glared angrily at Church, and Church defiantly raised Chekov's Gun again.

Chekov's Gun couldn't be triggered again for a period of time, but Church, pretending to be powerful, raised the flintlock gun and stood off against the elder.

"Found it!"

Derby dug out his severed hand from the rubble and retrieved the Blood of the Regent King from the clenched fist.

He waved excitedly to the elder and ran towards him. Derby knew there was no more time to waste; he had to complete the Blood Ceremony immediately.

Derby's smile froze.

A cold blade pierced through Derby's waist and abdomen. The contact of silver with flesh made a sizzling sound as if the flesh was being seared by flames.

Palmer grabbed Derby's neck from behind and forcefully drove the Silver Sword into his body.

Derby's and the elder's tiers were both higher than Palmer's; the flow of ether could not deceive their perception. Palmer went against the norm. He did not mobilize any ether and simply relied on his scarred body to crawl out of the rubble and deliver a backstab to Derby.

Simple and straightforward tactics, surprisingly effective in this high-strung, nerve-wracking melee. Derby and the elder were deeply immersed in the power of Chekov's Gun, paying no attention to Palmer's approach.

"Surprise!"

Palmer growled lowly, gripped Derby's neck, pulled out the Silver Sword, and aimed to slash at his throat.

The blood boiled hotly, and explosive flames burst from Palmer's chest. Without the protection of ether, this blow hit Palmer solidly, sending him crashing back into the rubble again, this time unable to climb back up.

Derby clutched the wound on his chest; death was so close to him that he thought he could almost hear the approaching footsteps of Death God.

No... it wasn't the Death God.

The elder summoned the fierce wind, and the airflow carried the Blood of the Regent King, moving toward the elder, the aged hand just a step away from the Elixir of Immortality.

A dagger sliced through the air; to the elder, such an attack was laughable. He didn't even bother to watch the dagger's trajectory, simply relying on the disturbance of the swift wind to deflect it off course.

Urgent footsteps approached. Vasilina mustered all her strength to enter the battlefield. The elder glanced at her contemptuously and with a wave summoned a gust to drive Vasilina back.

To the Elder, this was merely their desperate struggle, as eternal life was almost within his reach.

Suddenly, an ether reaction burst forth from the dagger that had been struck away. By the time the Elder realized he had fallen into a trap, Bologue's figure had already been swapped with the Phantom Dagger.

The dense Wind Blades left Bologue covered in open wounds, his left arm drooped, and several fingers of his right hand had long since broken off, but he stubbornly raised the Iron Hammer and smashed it down.

"Kill..."

A muffled sound emerged from Bologue's throat as a Wind Blade sliced it open, causing blood to gush out continuously.

"Shatter the soul!"

Face of Horror, fully unleashed.

A second? Or two?

Bologue wasn't sure how long this extreme fear could affect the two, but as long as it could cause even the slightest hesitation in their actions, for Bologue, it was already a success.

The panicked, angry expressions of Derby and the Elder were clearly reflected in Bologue's eyes, and he responded with a cruel smile.

Letting the flames ignited by boiling blood engulf him, Bologue swung down the Iron Hammer, piercing through layers of fire.

This was the destined fate, the elegy long written.

The Iron Hammer struck the suspended container, smashing it along with the Blood of the Regent King.

Bologue had no time to admire his great masterpiece as the Elder roared, conjuring a fierce wind that swept Bologue into the sky. By the time he fell again, bloodied and broken, lethal wounds were already scattered across Bologue's body.

"No... No..."

The Elder knelt down, sticking out his tongue like a stray dog, trying to lick the spilled blood.

The vicious fight to the death had lasted too long, the blood had already soaked the earth, the Regent King's blood mixed with Derby and Bologue's, and a nauseating smell came from the tip of his tongue.

The Elder abruptly looked up, grabbing Derby, and yelled madly, "You will perform Blood Donation for me!"

By relying on the Regent King's blood, the Elder could become part of the noble pure-blood tier in one fell swoop, but if Derby performed the Blood Donation, his lineage would be a deterioration of Derby's.

Derby's face was deathly pale. His tier was lower than the Elder's. If he were to perform the Blood Ceremony, the process would be very long, requiring him to transform the Elder bit by bit, but the current situation would not give him enough time.

No longer caring about these things, the Elder raged against death. He had already crawled out of the Wind Cellar, never wanting to endure that kind of life again...

"This farce should end."

A calm voice echoed from high above, just then the Elder realized the constant thunder had long since vanished.

The Elder looked up, and then the heavy wind pressure descended, forcing him to kneel once more.

Fuen hovered above the gale, observing the Elder with indifference, as if looking at a corpse.

The Elder shed hot tears; once, he too was as strong and young as Fuen, and now he had become this.

"Don't push me! Fuen!"

The Elder raised the Book of Dawn Oath in his hand, the blood long since soaking through the pages, each one filled with scarlet. The pages fluttered ominously in the wind.

This was the Elder's last bargaining chip; as long as the Book of Dawn Oath was still in his hands, he held absolute control.

Fuen said sorrowfully, "Has the fear of death already robbed you of your final sanity?"

The Elder didn't understand what Fuen meant. The next moment, the fierce wind tore the book apart, the shredded pages scattering like snowflakes.

Nothing happened, as always.

The Elder couldn't believe what was in front of him. Just days ago, Fuen and Church had confirmed the Book of Dawn Oath in the Wind Cellar...

The Book of Rubbing!

The Elder dazedly turned his head to look at the weary Church, who calmly said, "According to the Decision Room's directive, until the end of the conflict, the Order Bureau will keep the Book of Dawn Oath."

All the Elder had was a Book of Rubbing, the real Book of Dawn Oath had long since been swapped that day...

They deliberately put on a show for him, everything, all to catch the restless black sheep among the flock.

The Elder murmured, "From the very beginning, this was a setup."

"A new war is coming," Fuen responded, "Before we prepare to face the enemy, we need to ensure our own purity."

It was a lesson Serey gave to the Clarks, even such a grand Eternal Night Empire ultimately fell to Serey's hands.

The Elder no longer argued, he lowered his head, his once white and jade-like hands were turning black, the skin becoming wrinkled and brittle, peeling like old paint to reveal dark red flesh beneath.

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