She accused Aimou, and Aimou tried not to pay attention, reminding herself that Alice was completely dead, it was just a hallucination.

The chaotic hallucinations extinguished, but her sensory perception gradually began to distort.

Aimou wasn’t sure if this was the influence of the Sword of Confession, but she started to feel that the heartbeat coming from Xilin’s body was becoming increasingly clear, yet when she pressed her hand to it, Aimou couldn’t feel any pulse.

It was as if this body was in a state of superposition between life and death, and needed some force to intervene to truly determine its state.

Aimou didn’t know what that force would be; all she could think about was running away, but the rolling white mist behind her pursued with the relentless tide.

In this insanely evil atmosphere, the white mist grew thicker, becoming a massive surging white foam that enveloped the entire region, isolating everything outside, like a dimensional barrier.

In this world isolated from the outside, the song of the Confession Song became increasingly resonant. Under the singer’s cheerful voice, terrifying evils crawled out of the mist, rulers of the dark, with furious tempers and extreme malevolence, continuously uttering bizarre sounds with no discernible pattern, the layered fears further crushing people’s sanity.

"Aimou!"

A terrifying visage emerged from the darkness, loudly rebuking her.

"You’ve ruined everything... you selfish bastard, it was clearly I who granted you life..."

Aimou recognized the filthy, bloodstained figure reaching for her, swearing to drag her into the grave.

Extreme oppression shattered Aimou’s sanity, unconsciously, even her steps to escape gradually slowed, she stood motionless, as the rolling mist drew closer.

"Wake up!"

Geoffrey shook Aimou forcefully. As a Negative Power User, his resistance was undoubtedly higher than Aimou’s. Aimou was dazed for a few seconds before barely managing to break free from the hallucination.

Her mind was in chaos, her nerves numb as she stepped forward, but before she had taken a few steps, Aimou realized Geoffrey had vanished, turning her head, she saw Geoffrey standing there, tears streaming down his face.

Aimou did not know what he saw, perhaps something warm that stopped Geoffrey in his tracks, Aimou’s consciousness became more and more muddled, she struggled to think logically, only a Prayer Believer on the battlefield of the Seeker of Glory, as fragile as an ant.

"Aimou?"

Another voice called to her, and Aimou instinctively turned her head, then she saw a figure that gave her peace.

"Bo... Bologue?"

Aimou was filled with delight, it was a miracle to see Bologue here, she hurried toward Bologue, but suddenly, Bologue’s face twisted into a snarl, like a ravenous demon, raised his hands and strangled Aimou’s neck.

"You betrayed me!"

The feeling of suffocation enveloped Aimou’s mind; she was about to cry, whispering, "I’m sorry..."

"You let me down!"

The pulling force grew stronger as if her spirit and flesh were about to be separated, bringing a severely twisted pain.

Aimou felt she had fallen into true Hell, first Bologue, then Teda, Alice, and more.

They all reached out, wanting to tear Aimou apart, as curses and accusations continued. In this insane evil atmosphere, countless spirits slumbered in the mist, they were evil phantasms, with the white mist’s surge, sometimes slowly approaching, sometimes quickly disappearing.

Aimou felt her soul being corroded, almost desolate.

"Aimou!"

A roar drowned out all the clamor, and even the phantasms tormenting Aimou vanished, only a figure rushing out from the mist, wrapped in chains, carrying a sword and axe.

"Bologue?" Aimou was confused for a moment, "Is it really you?"

"It’s me!"

Bologue said while swinging the chain, it coiled around the dazed Geoffrey, pulling him over. Having been impacted by the Heart-devouring Song and the Confession Song in succession, Geoffrey’s spirit, like Aimou’s, was on the verge of collapse.

"You can confirm it."

Bologue grabbed Aimou’s hand, reminding her, "Heart Overlapping Shadow."

Their palms overlapped, in the desolate world, Aimou sensed another mind’s presence, faced with the echo of that soul, Aimou felt like a desert traveler finally seeing a clear lake, a sense of relief washed over her.

"It’s really you!"

If Xilin weren’t carried on his back, Aimou would have loved to embrace Bologue. This wasn’t a good time for an embrace.

Bologue glanced back at the area where the Seekers of Glory were fighting; reality had completely collapsed there, filled with unimaginable horrors. To find Aimou, Bologue had circled a large area to avoid the battle’s impact.

"We need to leave, quickly get out of here."

Bologue said as he lifted Geoffrey, leaving the rest to the Deputy Director. Their presence here was meaningless.

"Alright." Aimou seemed to have found his backbone.

Just as they were about to continue, a rumbling Vibration came from behind, like the opening of the heavens, dispersing the fog that shrouded them, leading straight to the sky, with the sun faintly visible falling.

Under that sunlight, Bologue saw Nesanel’s blurry figure, half-kneeling in a giant pit, with a narrow sword wound on his chest and residual flames burning on his body.

Accompanied by a gusting wind, Bologue saw the First Seat. As Bologue observed him, he already appeared before Bologue. 𝒇𝙧𝙚𝓮𝔀𝓮𝒃𝙣𝓸𝒗𝒆𝒍.𝙘𝒐𝒎

The stench of blood assaulted his senses; Bologue could hardly imagine how the First Seat was still alive.

His left arm, left leg... it could be said that the entire left side of the First Seat’s body looked as though it had been torn by a giant claw, completely gone, with exposed white bones and intestines spilling out like raised ribbons.

On the blood-soaked wound surfaces, most of the flesh had turned pitch black and carbonized, countless granulation tissues squirming like writhing maggot swarms. Bologue had seen such flesh on the Immortal Heart.

"Fresh blood!"

The First Seat howled like a ghost, the hood that had always concealed his face was now burned away, revealing a bloody head, with most of the face turned into a charred carbonized layer, followed by rampant granulation growth shedding the ashes.

"Get out of the way!"

Deceitful Snake Scale Liquid transformed into a stretching arm, and Bologue hurled Geoffrey far away, pushing Aimou and Xilin to the other side. The next second, a slender Thrusting Sword pierced through Bologue’s chest, an insane Confession Song erupted directly within Bologue’s brain, nearly bursting his skull.

The Thrusting Sword tore off Bologue’s entire right arm, amid extreme pain and hallucinatory delirium, the First Seat bit down on Bologue’s severed limb, chewing voraciously, as the blood and flesh went down, his wounds healed rapidly.

Bologue had seen this power before, from the Crimson Queen’s Protection·Bloodthirsty Healing of the corrupted Sect.

The First Seat of the King’s Secret Sword was actually a Protector.

Terrifying thoughts exploded in Bologue’s mind, but he had no time to ponder them; the power of the Supreme Secret Sword spread from the sword wound on Bologue’s chest, Bologue felt as if he were in a grand cathedral, only hearing the mountain-like organ playing its symphony, the roaring music engulfing Bologue’s mind.

"Confess."

A gentle voice whispered to Bologue.

Bologue’s gaze lost focus, and he fell straight down, collapsing into a pool of blood.

Amid Aimou’s screams, the First Seat once again sliced a large chunk of flesh off Bologue, though Bologue could no longer feel it.

Bologue felt as if he had sunk into a deep sea, his consciousness growing heavier until a faint light appeared.

"Congratulations, Mr. Bologue Lazarus."

A voice said to Bologue.

"You’re released from imprisonment."

Bologue raised his head; under the gray sky, snow was falling. He stood alone on an unfamiliar street, at a loss.

For some time, this scene persisted until a hunched figure appeared in his vision, approaching slowly with a cane.

"Long time no see, Bologue."

Bologue was stunned; the voice seemed familiar, but perhaps due to his long confinement, he couldn’t quite recall who the voice belonged to. He scrutinized the elderly face, glimpsing a hint of illusion amidst the scars of time.

"A...Adelle?"

Bologue’s voice was filled with disbelief, while Adelle chuckled hoarsely, as if fulfilling some grand prank.