After the revelry, only loneliness remained. In the silently quiet Undying Club, Serey furtively emerged, dashed behind the bar, and poured himself a drink while casually grabbing something to eat to fill his stomach.

Recently, Serey had been deliberately hiding himself, even timing his meals to avoid others. He was fed up with the tumult of the world and only wished to enjoy a peaceful retirement.

"It’s endless," Serey muttered lowly in complaint. "Sweep us into the shadows of history, why not just remain asleep?"

Serey was, of course, referring to the Night Race that had faded into obscurity for nearly a century, yet now in this era, they had returned.

"Has the seal of the Land of Eternal Night been lifted?"

Serey speculated, but he immediately thought, "Even if it’s lifted, so what? After nearly a hundred years, how many are still alive?"

Narrowing his eyes, in a haze, Serey fantasized about what was happening within the Land of Eternal Night.

His reverie was soon shattered by brutally gory fantasies.

"Eternal Blood Tax..."

Serey whispered, his eyes filled with heaviness. For Serey, this was an extremely ominous term, one he was still unwilling to face even now.

Amidst his loathing, the doors of the Undying Club suddenly swung open with a loud noise, startling Serey into crouching under the bar.

At this moment, Serey did not want to meet anyone.

Footsteps sounded, indicating the person was injured, judging by the staggering steps, followed by a thick scent of blood, as if they had just emerged from a slaughterhouse.

In that scent of blood, Serey recognized a familiar scent, not long ago, that of a stranger from the Night Race, and... Bologue’s.

Serey swiftly stood up from under the bar, only to see a half-dead figure leaning on a sword, struggling to stand before the bar.

Bologue had lost an arm, his leg bent grotesquely, and half of his body collapsed as if he’d just survived a deadly car crash.

Under Serey’s watchful eyes, Bologue threw up a large amount of blood, mixed with shredded meat, as if his viscera had turned into mush.

Struggling to lift his head, an even more horrifying face emerged before Serey, most of Bologue’s cheek had vanished, revealing bloody bones, with his scalp torn open, and his dark hair clinging like worms.

Serey covered his mouth, almost retching, but Bologue managed a bizarre smile at Serey, losing all strength and consciousness, he fell straight to the ground, splattering blood.

"Ah!"

Serey was momentarily stunned, then he screamed out loud.

... 𝙧𝙚𝙚𝔀𝒆𝓫𝓷𝙤𝓿𝒆𝙡.𝒄𝙤𝓶

Since Bologue embarked on the Path of Condensation, growing stronger, he seldom died so utterly until now, when the Regent King shattered Bologue’s dreams, demonstrating their disparity with absolute power.

"Seeker of Glory?"

In a vast gray wasteland, Bologue was in a daze, imagining if Seekers of Glory were this mighty, what might the legendary Crowned appear as?

Bologue could not imagine.

Standing, he brushed dust off his clothes and lifted his head, an azure planet hanging overhead.

After admiring it for a while, Bologue redirected his gaze and spoke, "What’s your take on the rise of the Night Race?"

"What else is there to say, it’s merely about winning amidst disputes, abandoning all scruples,"

a dull voice came from the side, the Astronaut lumbered closer to Bologue, "The Dawn War left him gravely injured, the Scorched Earth Fury drained all his resources, and ever since he’s been trying to regroup a force, yet sadly, the age has changed."

The Astronaut unceremoniously critiqued his blood kin.

"He’s like an injured whale, devoured by us bloodthirsty sharks, were it not for my and Belphegor’s alliance intimidating Beelzebub and the others, they wouldn’t have allowed his return."

Bologue simply applied a process of elimination and directly asked, "Sin of Pride?"

The Astronaut’s voice held reverence, "Indeed, they were once the mightiest among us."

Having experienced so much, Bologue felt himself becoming more distrustful, leading him to ask, "I suppose the Dawn War was also orchestrated by you?"

Bologue fixed his gaze upon the Astronaut’s golden visor, "There’s a distorted balance among you, never letting any one Devil dominate."

Raspy laughter echoed from beneath the heavy spacesuit, as if the Astronaut acknowledged Bologue’s words.

Once, the Sin of Pride grew immensely powerful, so the Dawn War ended his reign, thereafter the Astronaut obtained the power to end disputes, but the Fall of the Holy City then obliterated everything of his.

Reflecting on that long history... the Devils had countless chances to have a single victor, yet due to various factors, they chose perpetual torment over a clear winner.

Bologue suddenly found Devils rather pitiable, helplessly struggling in hot oil.

"Mountain Ridge, I guess that’s the Gate of Origin, right?" Bologue quickly added, "You deceived me, the Gate of Origin has never been important."

The Gate of Origin was the initial landing point of Ether, but as Ether blended and closely linked with the world, Bologue realized that closing the Gate of Origin was an impossible task.