After briefly chatting with Fuen, Bologue parted ways and walked down the corridor, sighing.

It was evident that the current Executioner had an extraordinary zeal for eradicating the Night Race. Even though Fuen had never really encountered many Night Race members since his birth, this did not hinder his hatred towards them. To Fuen, the Night Race was like a ticking bomb, unpredictable and ready to explode into disaster at any moment.

Bologue thought that perhaps one day in the future, he might really receive a task related to the Night Race.

"Oath..."

Bologue suddenly paused, looking out the window at the flickering shadows – members of the Clarks family, busy cleaning the coast.

This internal purge operation was quite successful. Not only were the traitors rooted out, but a certain understanding of the opposing force's strength was also gained.

Currently, the Night Race had only dispatched one Defender to contain Fuen. The thunder and fierce winds within the ominous clouds were stirred by Fuen during his battle with them.

The Defender from the Night Race had Secret Energy suspected to create illusionary weather, and the looming clouds earlier were conjured by him. Judging by the nature of the opponent's Secret Energy, Fuen believed that the opponent's Alchemy Matrix was not state-of-the-art.

He was also a relic of a bygone era.

Therefore, from Fuen's recount, the Night Race Defender wasn't considered strong... Perhaps Fuen himself was excessively powerful. Though outwardly he claimed his tier was that of a Defender, much like the disparity among Prayer Believers as Bologue observed, there were notable differences between Defenders. Fuen was undoubtedly the stronger party.

Fuen was already infinitely close to becoming a Seeker of Glory, yet he still hadn't taken that step, and it was unknown what he was awaiting.

Perhaps, like Bologue, he was anticipating future events.

In some inexplicable way, Bologue always felt that the research by Teda was correct.

Hundreds of years ago, the Secret Source was ethereal and elusive, and the world's Ether reserves were scarce. Even though humans could perceive the existence of Ether and utilize it, the effects were no more remarkable than street magic – merely conjuring flames or barely moving objects.

As time passed, the concentration of Ether gradually increased, and humanity's perception of the Secret Source became clearer, leading to the emergence of the Alchemy Matrix, further exploiting this Extraordinary Power.

A century ago, the Alchemy Matrix was limited to the crude Secret Energy·Wind Source, but through decades of iterations, the Clarks family had derived multiple advanced powers from the Secret Energy·Wind Source, perfecting the Path of Wind Fury.

Earlier generations of Defenders and Seekers of Glory possessed the power corresponding to their tier but lacked sufficiently potent Secret Energy. A hundred years later, the development and refinement of Secret Energy awaited these new Defenders and Seekers of Glory to rise.

Constantly advancing power.

An almost unmentioned term flashed through Bologue's mind, suddenly realizing that perhaps in this predetermined era, someone would eventually wear that elusive crown.

The Crowned.

The Ether concentration across the world continued to rise, and the ethereal Secret Source became increasingly distinct in the eyes of Alchemists, akin to stars that were growing ever closer. Once, they were merely small points of light in the night sky, but their radiance was intensifying, enough to descend upon the earth.

Bologue felt that Teda was right; his conjectures were correct, yet he lacked the evidence to prove it all.

I am the evidence.

As long as Bologue continued to live, he could witness Teda's hypotheses firsthand. It wasn't difficult for him; all he needed was to patiently await the passage of time.

Gazing into the distance, the scenery of the Wind Source Highlands always relaxed the mood, and Bologue leaned against the window as if he were a traveler on vacation.

After contemplating the era's iteration, Bologue wondered whether he too was bound by some kind of oath.

As a behemoth spanning the Rhine Alliance, Bologue believed there must be a formidable oath within the Order Bureau. Perhaps part of an oath was hidden in the job documents he signed.

Having worked in the Order Bureau for so long, Bologue hadn't sensed any power related to the oath, possibly because his tier and position weren't high enough, making his perception of the oath not as clear.

It was also possible that he hadn't truly signed an oath yet.

An oath is both a constraint and an acknowledgment; only by signing the oath does one reach the core of power.

The Elders of the Wind Cellar, under the binding of the oath, perform sacred duties, slumbering in the shadows. When necessary, through special Alchemy Armament, they could even detach from the Wind Cellar and go into battle.

These Elders' Secret Energy was outdated compared to the era, but their Ether intensity was indubitably strong, requiring merely the addition of advanced Alchemy Armament to unleash terrifying power, like the Silver Knights paired with the Iron-Cutting Steel-Slicing Sword.

Advanced Alchemy Armament could bridge the gap between eras, which is why Bologue believed that if Fuen truly prepared to attack the Night Race, it wouldn't be smooth sailing.

As the most ancient Night King, Bologue believed he could foresee the impact of era changes.

Facing such an ancient being, one can never be too cautious.

...

After sending Bologue away, Fuen let out a long breath, sharing with others his hidden ambitions, which made him feel extremely excited, as if he had regained his youth.

"He's gone, you can come out now."

Fuen tidied up the documents on the desk and spoke to the person hiding behind the side door.

After a moment, the side door opened, and a bizarrely dressed guy came out. He was tall, his muscles like armor, stretching a casual floral shirt to the brink, with equally colorful loose shorts below, flip-flops on his feet, and sand still lingering between his toes.

He plopped down on the seat Bologue had just occupied, gently nudged his pink heart-shaped sunglasses, and set the large sunshade he was holding aside.

Fuen queried the beach man, "Were you on vacation?"

"Sort of, they all went out traveling, and I thought, I haven't been out for a while, so I went to see her too."

The beach man pointed to where Bologue had just left, casually picked up a delicate key, and in front of Fuen, stuffed it into his mouth and swallowed it down.

"It only feels safe when kept inside the body."

The beach man coughed twice; putting something so hard into his stomach was no easy task.

Fuen frowned at this scene, "That's disgusting."

"You've seen it before."

"Vacation... long ago, I actually believed you were on vacation then," Fuen laughed at his own naïveté from his youth and questioned, "Where exactly does that Key of the Crooked Path lead?"

"To the island bathed in eternal sunlight."

That answer again. Fuen pressed his temples forcefully; since many years ago when he first knew the visitor, this was always the reply he got whenever he asked this question.

The island bathed in eternal sunlight.

It sounded ridiculous, a man who could only hide in the dark night, swearing to guard the Eternal Sun Island.

But the visitor answered seriously, with sincere demeanor, not like lying, yet Fuen just couldn't believe it.

This guy before him had uttered too many lies, mixing truths with falsehoods; even if he was telling the truth, Fuen found it hard to believe, unless he could witness it with his own eyes.

Fuen once asked to witness the Eternal Sun Island, but was always refused by the visitor; as a habit, he asked again, "I don't believe it, unless you take me to see."

"Oh? That won't do; that's my last harbor."

Yet again the familiar refusal, the visitor denied Fuen's request.

Fuen said, "I thought your last harbor was that Undying Club."

"The Undying Club harbors the body," the visitor pointed at his head, "while it harbors my spirit, even my soul—if I still have a soul."

The idle chat ended, and Fuen sat up straight, facing this flamboyant visitor who was now fiddling with the sand between his toes, scattering sand everywhere.

"We haven't seen each other in years, Serey, what's your sudden visit for this time?"

"What else, to see those Night Race not bound by the oath," Serey turned to look out of the window, where the scarlet coast was clearly visible, "I was the one who buried them back then and built their monument, and yet they reappeared..."

"Do you know anything?"

Fuen recalled that the words in the "Dawn Oath" were smeared and altered.

It had been over a hundred years since the oath was taken, most participants had returned to dust, and those aware of the insider details were now few and far between.

Fuen later had people investigate the witness of the oath, Wolfgang Gold, but still found nothing; even the power of the Clarks couldn't uncover the slightest clue, as if this witness appeared from nowhere and disappeared into nothing.

Now it was different; the greatest hero of the Dawn War, the traitor who destroyed the Night Race, Serey knew the whole of that history. If there were any questions, he would just ask him directly.

"Hmm..."

Serey sniffed the air deeply, even from such a distance, he still caught the faint blood scent, thereby identifying the source of the bloodline.

After a brief contemplation, Serey relaxed, smiling at Fuen.

"Good news and bad news, which one do you want to hear first?"

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.