“I… I didn’t see wrong, did I?”

  Jessica stared at Yevna, who had just dipped her head to Lattrell Lyte. She covered her mouth with both hands. “Isn’t she the Bureau’s diviner— a Beyond Mortality existence? She’s actually bowing to a normal person?”

  Lily was equally stunned. “Damn… wasn’t Lattrell Lyte just a clumsy cult leader? To save us, he actually turned the Bureau’s diviner?”

  If this got out, it would sound like a joke—no one in the hidden world would believe it.

  No matter which organization turned an oracle, they would bury it deep to pursue greater profit. To expose such a card just for the combination of one normal person plus two low-tier Transcendents? It was absurdly not worth it.

  Yet it had happened—right before their eyes!

  In that instant, every prisoner felt their brain wasn’t enough. Some even slapped themselves hard, as if they were dreaming.

  After the shock came, they all grew frantic.

  “My lord, take me with you!”

  “My lord, save me—I’m willing to serve you from now on!”

  “Money, esoteric transmission, treasure, women… I’ll offer everything to my lord!”

  All the prisoners groveled to the utmost, unwilling to miss this one and only chance to escape.

  “Too noisy.”

  Javon frowned and pointed toward Lily and Jessica’s cells. “In this area, aside from these two—kill all the rest.”

  Yevna nodded. The shadows beneath her feet spread outward, slipping into the cells through cracks in the iron doors. Screams rose and fell—until they became silence.

  Crack—creak! A teeth-grinding sound followed as the two iron doors warped and opened…

  Jessica and Lily stepped out, still wearing expressions of disbelief.

  “The three of you—let me reintroduce myself. I come from The Unseen Order! My lord guided you to me. His will is already unmistakable: He requires you to join my organization.”

  Javon looked at the three of them and smiled.

  “I agree.” Yevna did not hesitate in the slightest. She accepted at once.

  Lily and Jessica, however, were conflicted. “We’re from The Witch Sisterhood…”

  “That’s fine. Our fellowship is simply an organization that pursues unseen sorcery and Sephiroth advancement, as well as the secrets of history. Many of our members also belong to other cults; some even hold high office—but the lord does not care!”

  Javon looked at Lily and Jessica. “This is also the payment I’m asking for!”

  Lily fell silent.

  Compared to the worst outcome she’d imagined, this… seemed barely acceptable?

  “I’ve never heard of this organization. Which existence do you believe in?” Jessica asked hesitantly.

  “He is the symbol of salvation and free will—the only light at the end of days. Mortals cannot fully speak His true name, and can only force a name upon Him—Spirit of Null Observance!”

  Javon answered with a devout face.

  “Spirit of Null Observance? That obscured existence that never responds to believers?” Lily blurted out—then met Yevna’s dangerous gaze and hurriedly apologized. “Sorry… I never doubted His greatness…”

  “It’s fine. All things are null, so the lord does not care! He neither needs faith nor prayer… and does not even care whether we worship other Velthyr.”

  Javon glanced around. “We can talk about the rest after we get out. Lady Yevna, can you take us out?”

  The Shadowless possessed the core ability of Ethereal Realm transposition. And… it could bring people along!

  “Not yet. I can’t break through The Spear of the Sun King’s blockade,” Yevna replied softly.

  “No problem… the blockade will vanish soon.”

  Javon smiled. “Perhaps we can even pick up a little profit… For now, the only thing we must do is wait!”

  Not long after he spoke—

  Boom!

  A terrifying blast erupted from not far away. The corridor trembled;碎石 and dust fell in a steady rattle.

  “It’s begun…” Yevna murmured with a low sigh.

  Javon knew this was likely the Cult of Desire’s layout being triggered.

  And behind them stood The Blood of Decay, The Epicurean Society, Lotus-Eater… This evil grand alliance had finally launched its all-out assault on the Bureau!

  Bureau headquarters, underground entrance.

  The collision and explosion of the subway engine blew the doors—engraved with the Bureau’s insignia—into shattered pieces.

  In rolling smoke, one after another epicureans stood upon the Bureau’s underground plaza.

  “Feasting… a grand feast… let us revel to our hearts’ content!”

  Their eyes were blood-red as they roared in piercing ecstasy.

  With those howls, figures like walking corpses staggered out of the subway cars.

  Their faces were gaunt. Their bodies bore all kinds of wounds. Claws and fangs were sharp—brimming with craving for fresh flesh and blood.

  This was ghoul sorcery—using the subway’s passengers to transform them into crude ghoul thralls!

  A flood of ghoul servitors surged like a black tide, crashing toward the Bureau’s defensive line.

  “Aim!”

  “Fire!”

  Leafton led his men to form a line. They took cover and drew their guns, returning fire. All sorts of extraordinary bullets blew the heads off ghoul servitors—but there were simply too many of them!

  Very quickly, the first line was swallowed by the ghouls…

  Leafton watched as a teammate—who had just been chatting and joking with him, envying the cult leader—was pinned to the ground by a ghoul. Its claws ripped the man’s throat out in a single pull.

  Another teammate was torn into pieces; the head fell into the hands of a lady in evening dress, who elegantly cracked the skull open and sampled the brain…

  “Damn it—kill them all!”

  Leafton howled. In that moment, he forgot his family, forgot the timid man he used to be. His revolver kept firing, dropping ghoul after ghoul. When his bullets ran out, he used the revolver like a hammer, smashing it down hard on a ghoul servitor’s skull.

  Smack!

  Stinking blood sprayed out, splattering across Leafton’s face, his body…

  But then, an epicurean noticed Leafton and waved at him.

  Puff! Puff!

  Several white bone-spikes burst up from the ground, instantly piercing through Leafton’s chest. He spat blood. His eyes burned red as he stared at the ghoul thralls closing in, his blood-soaked hand struggling toward the talisman at his waist.

  “‘Ordinary people infected by ghouls will become ghoul thralls’… This is a fallacy!”

  In the next instant, a solemn proclamation rang out.

  The ghoul thralls’ movements went slack at once. Claws and fangs vanished rapidly, turning them into baffled corpses that toppled to the ground.

  Leafton turned his head with difficulty—and saw the Philosopher Xistos, Fiona, the Night Witch, Jacob, Heisinger, and other high-level figures.

  He smiled faintly, then sank into complete darkness…

  …

  Xistos stared at the plaza strewn with the Bureau’s heavy casualties, his expression incomparably grave.

  Even with the diviner’s warning and the alarm, it had still been a step too late: the investigators hadn’t completed their alert posture before the sudden strike.

  Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.

  The result was that The Epicurean Society had gone mad—using a subway train to smash through the Bureau’s gate. In the kingdom’s history, Bureau headquarters had been invaded for the first time!

  “You… should all die!”

  A pitch-black night fell like a beast, swallowing one epicurean after another.

  It was Fiona, the Night Witch!

  “My lord… you bear the language of death. Let us hold them off. You have a more important task—hold The Spear of the Sun King, and wait for the kingdom’s reinforcements!”

  Jacob spoke to Xistos with solemn urgency.

  In the diviner’s prophecy, the Philosopher Xistos would die! And within the Bureau, there was no place safer than The Spear of the Sun King itself.

  In truth, there were no sixth-Sephiroth The Crowned One existences inside the Bureau.

  Because the Bureau possessed The Spear of the Sun King. If a Velthyr enthroned existence held it, the power it could unleash would be far too great; combined with privileges and authority, the royal house and the upper chamber would never be at ease.

  Thus, whenever the Bureau produced a sixth-Sephiroth existence, that person would soon be transferred away—either into the royal house, or into the military—to maintain equilibrium among all sides.

  Even so, whenever the Bureau required it, applying for a Crowned One to assist was exceedingly convenient.

  This time was no different. The kingdom’s reinforcements would arrive quickly.

  Once the Philosopher grasped The Spear of the Sun King, even sixth-Sephiroth Crowned Ones would have to yield. Jacob could not imagine any way the Bureau could fall!

  The Philosopher Xistos seemed to be weighing something.

  In the end, he still stepped up onto the altar, reached out, and gripped the shaft of The Spear of the Sun King. He had long since gained its recognition, and was permitted to wield this god-grade arcane artifact.

  In the past, he had only used its projection—yet even that made Crowned Ones wary. Now, Xistos could unleash the strongest combat power beneath the World-Sanctioned Immortal.

  If The Spear of the Sun King were not the seal’s core and thus unable to leave the altar, its might would be even more terrifying.

  Everyone seemed to see a phantom white sun rise from the center of the plaza. Immediately after, many epicureans let out wails.

  Some had their flesh melt like wax beneath the radiance; facial features liquefied and dripped away. Others screamed without end.

  Their extraordinary abilities had been suppressed—no different from ordinary people.

  Upon the altar, Xistos held The Spear of the Sun King, his expression unchanged.

  As a god-grade arcane artifact, in terms of status it matched at least the seventh Sephiroth. Therefore, it possessed complete LAW.

  For a sixth-Sephiroth The Crowned One, their LAW was only a prototype—an incomplete form.

  Only by advancing to the seventh Sephiroth and opening the gate of immortality could one obtain complete LAW! Only with complete LAW was it possible to injure Velthyr—and thus gain the possibility of slaying a god!

  It was a power that even Velthyr and obscured existences must regard with dread!

  And The Spear of the Sun King possessed two complete LAW!

  Its power manifested in two aspects. The first was certain hit: once designated by the spear-tip, no matter how the enemy evaded—even by hiding in the Ethereal Realm—the thrown spear would inevitably strike. Nor could one substitute a decoy or use a stand-in to take the blow.

  The second was annihilation: anything destroyed by The Spear of the Sun King—no matter how many clones or life-saving abilities it had—would be obliterated in an instant, erased completely from the world.

  Holding The Spear of the Sun King, Xistos had already decided that the moment the God of Suffering appeared, he would hurl the spear without hesitation—even if it meant the Bureau’s seal losing its core, the prisoners and arcane artifacts erupting into riot—so long as it meant erasing the God of Suffering here and now!

  With that in mind, he looked toward the epicureans still barely clinging to life. His gaze turned even colder. He shook the spear in his hand, and a heavier suppression descended all at once!

  This was pressure of a World-Sanctioned Immortal’s status. In the present world, unless one held another god-grade arcane artifact, it was simply impossible to withstand!

  Jacob raised his grotesque firearm, aimed at the remaining cultists, and pulled the trigger hard.

  Rat-a-tat!

  Rat-a-tat!

  In his hands, an ordinary gun became like a submachine gun. A storm of bullets formed a steel curtain that shredded the enemies in an instant, leaving a hell of flesh and blood.

  “Ah… the main course of the feast has been set upon the table… we are revelry, and we are the end… we devour food, and we are also the devoured!”

  An epicurean in a black tailcoat loudly chanted a spell. A silver table knife flashed in his hand, and he slit his own throat.

  Thud!

  His corpse knelt weakly. A torrent of blood poured from his throat.

  Yet the blood was not red—it was a viscous, stinking black, like crude oil. It spread violently, flooding the surrounding area.

  It kept spreading, swallowing corpse after corpse. Where it passed, the brick-and-stone ground seemed to turn into a black mire, dragging people and objects into sinking depths…

  The surviving cultists shouted in unison:

  “I have drunk the blood—by that blood I covenant!”

  “We call upon You…”

  “Master of thorns and blood, servitor of decay and crimson, the great God of Suffering!”

  Rip—!

  Countless black thorns burst from the blackened earth, forming a grotesque, twisted thorn-tree of massive girth.

  Upon that giant tree, a colossal blood-red humanoid figure was bound.

  Its features were blurred, yet its will was razor-clear.

  With a slight dip of its head, black thorns surged up from the ground, skewering investigator after investigator.

  The God of Suffering—had descended!

  “At last.”

  A resolute expression surfaced on Xistos’s face. He raised The Spear of the Sun King, aligned its tip toward the God of Suffering, and hurled it with all his strength!

  At that instant, The Spear of the Sun King finally deviated from its position. The entire Bureau shuddered. Countless seals bloomed with cracks and failed.

  Beyond the Gate of Hell.

  Inside the corridor.

  From the depths—from cell after sealed cell—came pounding impacts and beastly roars…

  A dreadful sensation seized Lily and Jessica’s hearts. “This is…”

  “The Beyond Mortality existences imprisoned here are rioting,” Yevna sighed. “The Spear of the Sun King has left the seal core. Now, I can take you away at any time…”

  Inside the Bureau Director’s office.

  Through a sorcery crystal, Claude could see the plaza’s battle with perfect clarity.

  Regrettably, as a director whose combat power was low, he not only could not join the fight—he needed other investigators to protect him. Still, he believed a Bureau Director should never charge like a warrior. His duty was to coordinate from the rear.

  “Have the requests for aid been sent?”

  He looked at a liaison officer and roared.

  “Already sent—through both lines and sorcery, multiple channels!”

  The liaison replied at once. “Wait… we have a response!”

  It was as though he had received the information straight from the void. He shouted the report:

  “Queen’s District has been attacked by the Lotus-Eater group. The military, the royal house, and the upper chamber’s Crowned Ones are responding to The Blood Chalice Archbishop…”

  “Damn it.”

  Claude slammed his fist into the desk.

  Of course he knew how important Queen’s District was—not only Thronehall of Wessex, but also the estates of many great nobles.

  Attacking Queen’s District—creating chaos there—was to draw away firepower.

  And yet the Bureau had nothing to say. In others’ eyes, the Bureau had The Spear of the Sun King as protection. Even if it could not repel the enemy, preserving itself should be more than enough.

  Moreover, when a pet dog is in danger versus when the owners are in danger, the choice needs no explanation. Even a saturated rescue would prioritize Queen’s District first!

  Investigators could die in droves and it would not matter; but if a noble or royal died, that would be a major scandal!

  Even knowing this, Claude watched investigators fall—torn apart by ghouls—and his face was still filled with agony.

  In the next moment, he saw the colossal black thorn-tree, and the blood-red giant bound upon it.

  “The God of Suffering? He really dares to attack Bureau headquarters?”

  Claude looked toward Xistos holding The Spear of the Sun King, his eyes brimming with confidence.

  He saw Xistos throw The Spear of the Sun King. In an instant, it became a streak of golden light, shooting toward the God of Suffering.

  In the next blink, the golden meteor in midair abruptly arced—piercing through Xistos’s chest—then slowly flew into the God of Suffering’s hand.

  Everything happened too fast for anyone to react.

  When Fiona and Jacob turned their heads, all they saw was Xistos’s chest torn through by a terrifying puncture. Blood sprayed out in torrents. He fell from the high platform and struck the plaza’s stone tiles below.

  All his Essence, his thinking… were annihilated under that spear in an instant. What remained was only a body without a soul. With the slightest touch, it dispersed like smoke.

  That overwhelming sense of déjà vu filled Fiona and Jacob with regret beyond words.

  “So that’s how it is!”

  They snapped their heads up, staring at the God of Suffering holding The Spear of the Sun King. Despair flooded their faces.

  In the next moment, they saw the God of Suffering casually throw The Spear of the Sun King.

  Light!

  The Spear of the Sun King became a streak of gold, weaving through the Bureau plaza.

  How fast is light?

  A golden line danced and cut, crossing and returning. Fiona and Jacob—these Beyond Mortality existences—did not even have time to react before their chests were pierced by something unseen. The wounds were scorched, as though molten gold churned inside.

  In the next instant, they collapsed—walking toward death without the slightest power to resist.

  “No!”

  In the office, Director Claude slumped into his chair.

  He understood… the Bureau was finished!

  Though he had always disliked those Beyond Mortality existences, with so many high-level figures erased in an instant, the Bureau now existed in name only.

  And Claude saw that the God of Suffering did not withdraw. Instead, the pitch-black viscous liquid at its feet continued to spread outward.

  Clearly, it was deeply interested in the Bureau’s accumulated materials and arcane artifacts—along with those prisoners. It meant to swallow the entire Bureau!

  “Sigh…”

  Before the Gate of Hell, the old gatekeeper sitting behind the wooden table watched the stinking black tide roll in. With a weathered face, he gave a long, resigned sigh and rose to his feet, eyes calm.

  In the next instant—

  his body was swallowed by the black tide. Flesh rotted away. Only a head floated and bobbed atop the tide—sinking rapidly…

  Inside the Director’s office.

  Watching the black tide begin to erode every building of the Bureau, Claude roared, “Stop him!”

  But it did nothing at all.

  Black thorns stabbed up from the ground, as if they had eyes, skewering investigator after investigator. In the end, even the two investigator bodyguards beside Claude met the same fate.

  As the black viscous flood surged toward him, Claude’s expression turned calm.

  Splash!

  The black tide struck like waves smashing against rock—then abruptly collapsed, turning into countless drops of black rain.

  Claude slowly opened his eyes. Before him stood one mechanical legion after another, forming a levee. Across these mechanical dolls, runes flashed endlessly. They emitted weak light—yet they held back the black flood.

  This was the power of LAW—bestowed by a source, reinforced from afar!

  On the Bureau plaza, a portal to the Ethereal Realm burst open. An endless stream of mechanical dolls poured out in an instant!

  Beyond that portal, one could vaguely see a colossal metal castle.

  Gun emplacements bristled across it; the cannon barrels were covered in mysterious runes, radiating the fusion of sci-fi machinery and occult grotesquerie.

  This metal castle was a living mechanical factory—and also a city of steel!

  Within the darkness, countless shadows fused, forming a warped silhouette. From that silhouette, the distortion kept spreading—warping the entire plaza into a single point, severing it from the original Bureau.

  A surviving epicurean seemed to brush against a trace of this Distortion LAW. In an instant, his body twisted like it had fallen into a vortex—becoming a shape so bizarre it shattered the limits of human imagination—before dropping to the ground.

  “The royal house, the military, and the upper chamber’s reinforcements are here!”

  The surviving investigators, seeing this scene, could not help but cheer.

  The blood-red giant bound in black thorns watched the scene. It calmly recalled The Spear of the Sun King. Its colossal body sank into the black tide—vanishing completely.

  The God of Suffering chose not to clash directly with the reinforcements.

  It chose to retreat.

  Inside the prison.

  “Looks like there’s no hope of picking up profit. Before they rebuild the seal, we should leave.”

  Javon sighed and grabbed Yevna’s arm.

  Lily and Jessica hurriedly did the same. Yevna’s figure—along with the three of them—turned translucent, sank into the Ethereal Realm, and disappeared…