Endless Debt-Chapter 953 - 53: Gray Tide and Smog (Part 3)

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The Great Rift is a massive dump, this is everyone’s first impression of this eerie place. Many companies illegally lay pipelines, dumping toxic industrial waste into the Sea of Mist, and some Alchemists hidden within the Great Rift are also accustomed to discharging hard-to-manage Alchemy Waste.

Everyone is dumping garbage into the Great Rift, but fortunately, this dump will never be filled. Whatever they throw in will eventually be consumed by the Calamity, and the grotesque mass of flesh will be burned to ashes by the scorching power of light.

Like a giant incinerator, nothing is left except for the ever-accumulating ashes.

However, not everything falls into the Abandoned Land. Many things are mixed into the thick mist, like a constantly poisoned potion, making it increasingly deadly.

Within the Great Rift, several areas are divided according to the concentration of the mist. The majority live in the safer zones where the mist is less dense. The deeper you go into the Great Rift, the thicker the mist becomes, and the more potent the toxins.

Small acid rains often precipitate from the mist, corroding surrounding structures. At certain depths within the mist, just exposing skin and making contact with the mist will cause burns.

The buildings of the once towering Great Rift used to rise tens of meters high, but as the mist thickened, the lower structures became shrouded in mist, turning into a ghost town of ruins hanging from the cliff, even detestable Demons keep a respectful distance from the dense mist areas.

In this land of toxic fog, an ancient fortress ruin has almost completely merged with the mountain rock due to geological changes, becoming the sanctuary for the King’s Shield Guards.

The Shadow King, as always, sits beneath the glass dome. Looking down from here, nothing can be seen but milky white mist.

A silent gaze extends from under the Silver Mask. He stares at the Sea of Mist for a long time until a sound breaks the silence.

It is a young man, his clothes simple, but a luxurious Blade hangs at his waist, its Sword Scabbard extravagantly inlaid with gold and jewels, as if all the man’s wealth was used to adorn this Blade.

Morrison Buze, once a member of the King’s Secret Sword, was once praised as the youngest Negative Power User among the King’s Secret Sword, until he chose to defect and join the King’s Shield Guard, serving the Shadow King.

He gave up everything he had in the Kagader Empire, wealth and reputation meant nothing to Morrison, the only thing he took with him was his Blade.

"Your Majesty."

Morrison’s left hand rested on the hilt, and before stepping under the glass dome, he smartly paused. Though it seemed the Shadow King was alone here, Morrison knew that the Iron Armor-clad Third Seat was nearby, ever-present in defending the Shadow King.

He knelt on one knee to the Shadow King’s back.

"The goods from the Gray Trade Association have arrived."

The Shadow King slowly stood up, a crisp cracking sound came from under the black robe, like dry skin being torn by movement.

Heavy footsteps sounded from the shadows on one side, the Third Seat emerged from the shadows, the tall figure standing behind the Shadow King.

Morrison rose and led the way. After progressing through layer upon layer of spiral corridors, they saw the so-called goods in a ruinous hall.

Many Shield Guards gathered here, cautiously unpacking the goods from the Gray Trade Association. They were well aware of how deadly these goods were. Even the Condensers were fully focused, not daring to make the slightest error.

Bottles of heavy gas canisters were unloaded, stacked up in a large area.

"According to those merchants, this is all the Plague they can muster from their stock," Morrison explained, "Since the treaty, the Order of Truth has stopped producing these, not even this group of merchants could obtain much more."

Morrison added, "But this is already enough. By scale, once these Plagues are released, they can wipe out the entire Oubos, turning it into a dead land."

"But this assumes the Order Bureau does nothing."

A raspy voice came from under the Shadow King’s mask, "They are quite experienced in dealing with Extraordinary Disasters. Under the Order Bureau’s intervention, causing several blocks to fall is already quite difficult, not to mention deploying this would not be an easy task."

Morrison explained, "Deployment is not an issue, the Gray Trade Association has calculated the timing for the next mist tide. If necessary, they are willing to help us trigger an early surge of the mist tide."

The silent Third Seat spoke, "You’re referring to the Gray Mist?"

"Yes." Morrison affirmed.

The Gray Mist is a phenomenon unique to the Great Rift. A large amount of fog accumulates within the Great Rift, after brewing over a long period, it gradually overflows. Driven by air currents, it sporadically erupts into a deadly fog, with toxic mist surging from the depths of the Great Rift, eroding the entire Maze Crossroad.

This is still not the end; the toxic mist will overflow from the Great Rift, spreading to surrounding areas. Therefore, many airflow isolation devices are installed in buildings around the Great Rift to prevent toxic mist from harming humans.

Morrison excitedly said, "We can trigger an unprecedented massive fog, mixed with the Plague."

"Our goal is not a massacre," the Third Seat spoke, "but to use this to contain the Order Bureau and the King’s Secret Sword."

"Such an Extraordinary Disaster, they cannot turn a blind eye. This gives us the opportunity to act, and even serves as our bargaining chip in negotiations with them," the Third Seat continued to explain their true aim.

"To reclaim Xilin’s body."

The Third Seat and Morrison fantasized about the subsequent actions and the crises and possibilities they would encounter.

The Shadow King silently watched those transporting the gas canisters, some things he had always kept buried in his heart, never sharing with anyone, even with the ever-protective Third Seat.

He was certain he would acquire Xilin’s body.

As if destiny was predetermined, a script long written, an unchangeable Chapter.

Under the Astronaut author’s writing, nothing could distort his will or lead the story off course.