Suinhor, City of Fire Protection

The war had raged for nearly a month, but news traveled slowly to the common people of Suinhor.

In this age, information moved at a crawl. Only important messages, carried by Ability Users through the Rainbow Tree, could travel quickly.

The people’s focus was not on the news that the Southern City-State Alliance was losing ground, nor on how many had perished in the war.

No one cared how many descendants of Pence had died. It would be better if they were all dead.

Everyone remained indifferent to who won or lost, even hoping the conflict would continue indefinitely.

However, everything changed when news arrived that Byron the Burner had desecrated divine beings by destroying the statue of the deity worshipped by Suinhor.

This news caused a tremendous uproar.

Everyone in the City of Fire Protection shouted for punishment against the Royal Court of Ten Thousand Serpents and those northern savages.

Some called for war against the Royal Court of Ten Thousand Serpents, demanding the destruction of a kingdom whose faith differed so greatly from their own.

Others suggested binding Byron to a pillar and burning him alive, transforming the burner into the burned.

“Why hasn’t the King acted yet?” Outside the court, groups of devout believers gathered.

“You are the deity’s chosen one, the Divine Blessed King!” they shouted toward the palace.

“How can we allow northern savages to desecrate our deity?” Some grew nearly hysterical, harming themselves and raising bleeding hands while calling for the blasphemer’s blood.

Meanwhile, an even more terrifying revelation surfaced among Suinhor’s ruling class.

The leaders of Suinhor had been investigating the Abyss Cult, searching for detailed information about the disaster from years ago.

Soon, they discovered that the disaster was not merely an ordinary sacrifice.

Unlike other calamities manufactured by the Abyss Cult, this was a ritual designed to create an Abyss King.

Most crucially, they had succeeded.

With this key information revealed, a particularly conspicuous figure gradually came into focus.

Despite the Royal Court of Ten Thousand Serpents’ attempts to conceal it, such an existence could never be truly hidden.

A letter was delivered to the City of Fire Protection via the Rainbow Tree and immediately brought into the palace.

“We’ve found him!”

“The letter confirms it. Byron the Burner is the candidate for the Abyss King of Wrath!”

In Suinhor’s royal palace, the king, nobles, and divine servants all wore expressions of disbelief.

Their shock came not only from discovering that Byron, a famed and rising figure, was the Abyss Cult’s Son of Wrath. It was amplified by the fact that such a person had become a legion commander in the Royal Court of Ten Thousand Serpents and had entered its very core of power.

Did the Dark Moon not know?

If he did know and still used such an existence, what did that represent?

Did it mean that the Royal Court of Ten Thousand Serpents had already turned toward the Abyss?

Had the Abyss’s influence already grown to such an extent without anyone noticing?

Some immediately envisioned the darkest possibilities, while others began shouting.

“A fallen one!”

“A blasphemer!”

“No wonder he committed such evil acts. He is destined to face divine punishment!”

Others immediately agreed. “The Royal Court of Ten Thousand Serpents has fallen. They must have fallen.”

Someone turned to the Divine Blessed King. “My King, we cannot stand by and watch any longer.”

Another spoke with great excitement, as if he had anticipated this situation for a long time. “My King, the Royal Court of Ten Thousand Serpents has fallen. It is a country seized and occupied by the Abyss. We must act immediately.”

The King considered this for a moment, then spoke.

“It hasn’t reached that point yet. There is no evidence connecting others in the Royal Court of Ten Thousand Serpents to the Abyss Cult.”

These “others” clearly referred to the Dark Moon General.

This generation’s Divine Blessed King of Suinhor showed more resolve than his predecessors, appearing decisive rather than hesitant.

“Send someone to bring back Byron the Burner.”

“This blasphemer, this fiend who has succumbed to the Abyss, has turned against the divine beings and betrayed the snake people.”

“We cannot allow him or those evil existences from the Abyss to achieve their goals.”

This time, no one in Suinhor could remain indifferent. This was about divine prophecy and the world’s greatest, most evil threat: the Abyss.

The son of the Divine Blessed King personally wore the Life Artifact known as the Proof of Blood Kinship. By this time, some of its Trilobite Symbiotes had undergone numerous reincarnations. When combined with the artifact’s immense power, they were capable of unleashing unimaginable strength.

It was a power rivaling that of an apostle.

This was Suinhor’s greatest foundation, an object bestowed by the divine beings themselves.

Beneath the court, a young man stood clad in ancient battle armor. A blood-red cape flowed behind him, rippling with his every movement.

The King placed a helmet on his son’s head.

“The divine beings protect you,” he said.

“Go now!”

“Spread despair among the enemies of the divine.”

The prince bowed his head. “The enemies of the divine shall die by my spear!”

In an instant, the prince’s form began to change as blood-colored power spread down the steps.

A pair of blood wings suddenly grew from his back. He flapped them once and soared into the sky.

At Suinhor’s border, another legion quickly assembled.

Before the palace, everyone lowered their heads in respect, a sight that had not been seen in many years.

The Proof of Blood Kinship had not been used for many years.

To most people in Suinhor, the blood-colored cape was a symbol of divine will. Its bearer was the embodiment of divine punishment, carrying out the will of the gods with unwavering resolve.

However, the gathered nobles each had their own schemes and ambitions.

Suinhor was not officially engaging in war with the Royal Court of Ten Thousand Serpents. Instead, its position was framed as non-intervention in the conflict.

They would face the adversaries of the divine, bringing justice to the wicked followers of the Abyss and the fallen ones.

With this justification, they could rightfully protect the Southern City-State Alliance. They could even openly criticize the Royal Court of Ten Thousand Serpents within their own circles, working to dismantle the vast kingdom that had threatened them for generations.

If successful, it would become a grand and lavish feast.

Dream Realm, the location of the Purgatory Embryo

As Suinhor’s chosen prince set out on his journey, word of his movements soon reached Senge, the Abyss Cult High Priest. Slowly, Senge opened his eyes and rose from the surface of the black swamp.

“It’s finally beginning!”

His brow relaxed, his face calm and pleased.

“Byron!”

“Are you ready? Your moment of death approaches.”

“What will you choose?”

“When everything you know, every truth you recognize, is revealed as a lie, what will you choose?”

“When the ideals you’ve inherited contradict your hatred…”

“Will you choose that empty ideal, or will you ignite this world with vengeful fire?”

As Senge spoke, his smile grew wider and wider.

He moved forward as he spoke, approaching the evil embryo.

Senge raised his head, gazing at the grotesque form oozing black mud.

This time, he placed his hand upon it.

Standing so close, separated only by a thin membrane, he could clearly see the true shape of the fetus within. It was a being that took the form of a deity.

It resembled Yafuan, the King of Pride, before he became a bone demon. It appeared to sleep with its eyes closed.

When the Abyss was originally born, there were three steps and conditions required.

First was the mythological spirituality, tainted by the winged people and the primal black mud, which was the most essential component.

Second was the mythological blood, obtained by sacrificing half the winged people from the Winged Mountain Range.

Third, a powerful apostle had to guide the primal black mud from the Dream Realm to allow the Abyss core to fully form.

Now, the success of the Purgatory Ritual meant a significant portion of the second step was complete.

If Byron fully absorbed the power of wrath and became an apostle, he could then guide the black mud and Purgatory will from the Dream Realm to complete a massive sacrifice, and success would follow.

However, the Son of Wrath’s fury had not yet reached its peak. He needed to unleash the power of wrath to its greatest extent.

Senge himself would be the one to completely ignite the Son of Wrath’s rage.

He stood beneath the Purgatory Embryo, gazing at his master through the membrane.

He understood that leaving now likely meant he would never return.

Even if he did return, it would be in another form.

Images flashed through his mind, scenes from his childhood.

His family had been enslaved by nobles of the Royal Court of Ten Thousand Serpents. His father died building a castle for his master.

With the family’s pillar gone, the master not only failed to provide compensation but allowed others to abuse them as widow and orphans.

It was because they were Avel people.

Eventually, his two younger brothers starved to death. Even his mother went mad.

He left his homeland and ultimately joined the Abyss Cult, becoming one of its madmen.

As a child, the stories he heard most often were about Xiuborn and Yafuan.

At that time, he did not know that the Abyss King of Pride was once Yafuan.

No one knew.

When he received Yafuan’s summons, his excitement was immeasurable.

“Lord Yafuan,” Senge whispered with a faint smile. “I must go now.”

“This is not Byron’s revenge.”

“It is our revenge.”

“The hatred of the Avel people has never ended.”

Senge’s face showed no sadness, only a smiling anticipation.

Perhaps from the moment his mother went mad, he had followed her into that same madness.

In this insane world, in this insane Abyss Cult, one could only survive by becoming even more insane.

“Royal Court of Ten Thousand Serpents!”

“Children of Pence!”

“They must pay for what they have done.”

After speaking these words, Senge was covered by black mud.

He vanished from the Dream Realm.

First Layer of the Abyss, the Fire Abyss

Inside the Black Stone Magic Palace, the walls were adorned with carvings that portrayed scenes of bloodshed, horror, and unimaginable grotesqueness.

Among them, two wall carvings with no connection to the Abyss were prominently displayed at the forefront of these terrifying works.

Even the King of Pride, Yafuan, appeared to believe that the scenes in these carvings embodied a horror and despair greater than the Abyss itself.

The second carving depicted a massive mountain with a lake as vast as the sea at its base. Its shores were piled with snow salt, and the mountain and clouds merged as one.

A city was built by hollowing out the mountain, rising layer upon layer.

This was a divine city. Sacred halls crowned the mountain’s peak, rising above the sea of clouds to reach into the heavens.

At the base of the mountain were auxiliary cities and scattered villages, home to ancient races completely different from the snake people.

However, the background of the image and the city itself revealed a scene of utter apocalypse.

Darkness covered the horizon as faint halos of light spread across the sky. A terrifying humanoid figure stood at the edge of heaven, caught between reality and illusion, completely out of place in the mortal world.

This was mythology. Behind that figure, a circle filled with dense, complex symbols and forbidden text loomed ominously.

Simply gazing at this phantasmal humanoid felt like witnessing the world’s evil embodied.

An Evil God.

The Little Person in the Bottle.

The evil deity in the wall carving emitted a light that shone upon the entire sacred mountain.

The temple, the divine city, the auxiliary cities at the mountain’s foot, and the strange races on the sacred mountain were all overtaken by death. Thousands upon thousands of people cried out in agony as they were turned into statues.

The carving was vivid and lifelike. Examining it closely, one could even see the fear and despair preserved in the eyes and faces of the dying.

If purgatory existed in this world, this would surely be its embodiment.

The despair arose not only from the terrible disaster but also from the complete absence of hope, leaving no possibility for resistance or change.

The King of Pride, Yafuan, spoke the name of this wall carving. “Disaster of the Evil God!”

The first carving featured the same sacred mountain and sky-bound temple as its background.

Supernatural beings gathered immense armies to encircle the great mountain. Countless wing demons soared through the air, their outstretched wings casting shadows that blotted out the sun and sky.

Ancient divine apostles summoned puppet armies. Numerous Third-Rank Ability Users commanded colossal statues and massive puppets, some towering tens or even hundreds of meters tall, as they led great armies toward the sacred mountain.

A sea of blood enveloped the entire world at the mountain’s base, with monsters taller than mountains emerging from its depths.

A terrifying dark deity gripped a bronze book in one hand and wielded a scythe in the other, reaping lives. The young God Asai commanded the Door of Truth, while a deity named Stuen became a sea of blood that consumed the world.

The King of Pride, Yafuan, named this painting as well. “War of the Divine Beings!”

These were memories from a time long past, visions Yafuan had seen through the ghost Polik, mere fragments of a bygone era.

At that time, Yafuan was completely shaken.

He looked at the newly created carving of the evil god and turned to Polik.

“This can’t be real, can it?” he asked. “Did this actually happen?”

“Why would the God of Knowledge and Truth create such a monster? Why bring about such a terrible disaster?”

But Polik said this was only the beginning.

“Despair?”

“This is merely the beginning.”

“God Asai thought he created a mythology, another deity with a will and memories identical to his own.”

“He did uncover the secret of truth, but he never anticipated that he would create a monstrosity. The moment the evil god appeared, he himself fell into slumber.”

“The evil god was born, and disaster followed, bringing ruin to this world.”

At that moment, the Abyss King of Pride, Yafuan, fixed his gaze on the wall carving. The words slipped through his bone-white teeth.

“God Asai!”

“And… the Little Person in the Bottle!”

Inside the Fortress

Byron, the commander of the Solar Flame Legion, was inspecting his troops. Many of them were young people who hailed from Fort Pence.

Among them were numerous former friends of Byron from the city’s western district.

Like Byron, they had personally experienced that disaster and lost precious things in the calamity.

Byron received adoration from many soldiers, though others looked at him with fear and disgust, much as they once had with the former Dark Moon General.

Following Byron meant victory, but for those who followed him, countless had become nothing more than a fire mark etched upon his right arm.

He was like a flame, burning through the lives of his enemies while also consuming the lives of his companions.

Standing among the crowd, Byron addressed everyone.

“We have already won!”

“Just one last step remains. We must capture that city.”

“Peace will come. We will thoroughly cleanse those who disrupt this country and its order. Then, the new country the Dark Moon General spoke of will be born.”

“The sacrifices made will become worthwhile.”

“And everything you have done will become valuable.”

In his heart, Byron also told himself, “Everything I have done, my choice to accept the power of the Abyss, will also become valuable.”

From the crowd, a young man asked a question.

“Will the day the Dark Moon General spoke of truly come?”

Before Byron could answer, the deputy legion commander shouted, “It certainly will!”

The entire legion erupted in cheers, their morale soaring.

Byron looked at his deputy. “I can hardly wait to break through that city’s walls.”

His heart still seemed to care deeply about the new country the Dark Moon General had described.

A vision of the future.

He carried hatred and boundless rage, haunted by nightmares that stole his sleep. Yet, the sense of justice from his former self, along with the aspirations of that naive boy, still lingered within.

At the very least, he believed the Dark Moon General was a hero. He thought of himself as helping that hero, like a companion to the figures in old stories.

However, despite his anticipation, Byron was met with a reassignment order. The Solar Flame Alchemy Corps was commanded to proceed to the Great Serpent Road to guard against any movements from Suinhor’s Alpens Fortress.

The task of attacking Wing Demon City would be carried out by the newly arrived Silver Serpent Legion.

“Why?”

Byron could not understand.

The enemy was right before his eyes. First, he was forcibly restrained to wait for the Silver Serpent Legion. Now, after their arrival, he was being reassigned to the Great Serpent Road.

Though they said Suinhor’s legion at the Great Serpent Road showed unusual activity, he still could not accept it.

The deputy legion commander, holding the orders firmly, looked at Byron with a stern expression.

“Byron, these are orders,” he said, leaving no room for argument.

Byron still struggled to accept, but the deputy’s words were final.

Military orders were absolute and could not be disobeyed.

He could only watch as the Silver Serpent Legion took over the fortress defense, preparing to launch the final assault on Wing Demon City, while he led the Solar Flame Legion toward the Great Serpent Road and Alpens Fortress.

While he was on the march, the Silver Serpent Alchemy Corps and numerous regular legions surrounded and entered Wing Demon City.

At this point, Wing Demon City offered almost no significant resistance. Some residents even went so far as to open the gates in surrender.

After entering the city, the Silver Serpent Legion immediately began arresting all core members of the Southern City-State Alliance.

Then, with no sign of a trial or deliberation, they moved swiftly to carry out executions within the city.

At that moment, Byron led a small squad into the city, appearing suddenly at the execution ground.

“Byron?”

“Why are you here?”

The Silver Serpent Alchemy Corps commander, who was responsible for oversight, was astonished to see him.

After recovering from his surprise, he reprimanded Byron loudly.

“You abandoned your legion to return?”

“Do you know what you are doing?”

“You are disobeying military orders. Do you not realize what happens when a legion loses its commander?”

Byron looked at the chained rebels, each waiting beneath the gallows to be hanged.

These once lofty nobles and lords now stood pale and trembling, some even having lost control of their bladders.

Almost every core member of the Southern City-State Alliance was present. If the masterminds of the disaster from years ago were connected to them, they would undoubtedly be among these individuals.

Byron glanced at the Silver Serpent Legion commander.

“I don’t care about credit, nor do I care who captured Wing Demon City.”

“But there are questions I must clarify.”

The Silver Serpent Legion commander wanted to say more, but Byron waved his hand.

Towering flames formed a circle that isolated everyone else, leaving only himself and the prisoners awaiting death.

The Silver Serpent Legion commander clearly sensed Byron’s grim determination.

Even though he was also a Third-Rank Ability User, he paled in comparison to Byron, who had defeated both a Third-Rank snake person and a Third-Rank great wing demon.

Furthermore, the credit for capturing Wing Demon City had essentially been handed to him. This left him without the confidence to face Byron directly.

Byron walked step by step toward his target, the one he had long believed to be the mastermind.

The king of the Southern City-State Alliance.

“Was it you?”

“Was it you who caused the disaster in Fort Pence years ago? You worked with the Abyss Cult, didn’t you?”

“Where are those Abyss cultists?”

“Where are they hiding?”

The man looked completely bewildered, utterly confused about what Byron was saying.

Byron grew impatient and placed his hand directly on the man’s head.

“Mind Reading!”

As a Third-Rank peak Ability User, he was highly skilled in mind reading. When he did not care about the harm it caused, ordinary people were unable to deceive him.

“Tell me! Was it you who did it back then?”

“Tell me, where are those escaped Abyss cultists? Those two Fallen High Priests, and the Abyss High Priest?”

Byron grew increasingly agitated, his demands becoming a roar.

But the other man remained bewildered. Even as his body convulsed in pain, his mouth still repeated the same words.

“It wasn’t me!”

“It wasn’t me.”

“Really, it wasn’t me… I didn’t do it…”

Byron’s frenzied expression gradually calmed.

His eyebrows lowered, his mouth agape.

He fell into a deep confusion.

“There are no lies?”

“It wasn’t you?”

Byron stood up. “How could it not be you? If not you, then who?”

He was at a loss. He looked at the enemy before him, the one he had always considered his greatest foe, second only to the Abyss Cult High Priest.

He had endured immense hardship, fought countless battles, and sacrificed so many lives to finally see this person reduced to a prisoner.

Yet now, he discovered that the events from years ago had nothing to do with this man.

He turned to look at another person on the gallows and grabbed him firmly by the throat.

“Tell me!”

“Did you do it?”

Terror flooded the man’s face, but his mind revealed nothing of what Byron sought.

“Not you either?”

Byron behaved like a madman, grabbing one person after another, asking the same question.

“Was it you then?”

“Was it you?!”

Byron finally realized something.

Not one person present knew the truth of what had happened back then.

He stood on the wooden platform, turning in circles as if dizzy.

He looked at the people watching him from below, then turned back to the prisoners on the gallows, falling completely into confusion.

“They don’t know?”

“Why does no one know?”

Byron withdrew the flames surrounding the gallows and descended.

The Silver Serpent Legion commander then ordered the execution to proceed.

The king of the Southern City-State Alliance was hanged, slowly breathing his last.

Suddenly, Byron turned his bewildered gaze back, his eyes fixed on the grotesque scene of death before him.

He had once eagerly anticipated this moment, believing it would be the answer he sought.

Yet now, all that remained was a deep and overwhelming sense of confusion.

He felt no satisfaction at all. The immense hatred in his heart remained bottled up, with no way to find release.

He was like a bull about to burst with frustration, his body so hot it seemed ready to ignite, yet he could only pace in place.

He could not find his enemy. His body contained an ocean of rage, yet it remained tightly sealed in a jar.

Suddenly, he asked the Silver Serpent Legion commander a question.

“Why such urgency to execute them?”

The commander answered, “It’s the General’s order.”

Byron pressed him. “Why the rush?”

The Silver Serpent Legion commander explained, “Because of the threat from Suinhor. Clearing out these people is the only way to ensure Suinhor has no justification to interfere in our affairs.”

Byron said nothing, only lowering his head.

Once the seed of doubt is planted, it is nearly impossible to remove.

Previously, whenever Byron heard the General’s name, gratitude and reverence welled in his heart.

But at this moment, a powerful doubt surged within him.

That day, Byron gave the impression of departing for the Great Serpent Road. However, he quietly returned on his own to Wing Demon City.

He wanted to investigate the city, to determine if the events from years ago were truly unrelated to the Southern City-State Alliance.

Could the true mastermind still be hidden?

Or was the Dark Moon General, the one he had always trusted, deceiving him?

All of this plunged Byron into a state of profound confusion, leaving him to question everything he thought he knew.

He meticulously searched the city for clues, questioning anyone who might have ties to the disaster and hunting for any sign of the Abyss Cult.

Simultaneously, he investigated several key figures from the Royal Court of Ten Thousand Serpents within the city.

At last, one of his puppets found a trace of the Abyss Cult. A member had been spotted within the city.

To his astonishment, he discovered the Silver Serpent Legion commander in direct contact with this cultist.

In the army’s quarters, a figure cloaked in shadows arrived quietly, avoiding attention.

The figure engaged in a hushed conversation with the Silver Serpent Legion commander inside a secluded room.

At this, Byron could no longer restrain himself.

He appeared directly in the room and confronted the commander.

“Silver Serpent?” Byron’s voice was cold and sharp.

“Explain yourself,” he said, stepping closer, his eyes burning with suspicion.

“Why are you meeting with someone from the Abyss Cult?”

The Silver Serpent Legion commander looked confused, the very expression Byron had come to despise.

“An Abyss Cult member?”

“He’s a merchant who sells alchemical artifacts.”

“No! Byron, what is going on? Weren’t you ordered to guard the Great Serpent Road?”

“Are you ever going to stop?”

Byron did not respond. Without hesitation, he reached out and captured the cultist who was trying to flee.

The cultist’s power leaked out as his body began to mutate.

While supernatural power and divine techniques might be difficult to distinguish, this Abyss-corrupted mutation was unmistakable.

Silver Serpent immediately exclaimed, “How could this be?”

He quickly tried to explain. “Byron, I truly didn’t know.”

He tried to approach, but this only triggered Byron’s intense reaction.

Byron readied a Third-Rank divine technique. The intense energy radiating from him froze Silver Serpent in place, leaving the commander too intimidated to make any move that might provoke him.

Byron had completely lost trust in the man before him.

He seized the cultist, his fingers violently gripping the man’s skull as cursed marks flowed from his arm into the other’s body.

He extracted all the cultist’s memories.

Quickly, he obtained the information he sought.

He immediately looked toward another part of the city, transforming into a torrent of flames that rushed in that direction.

Sensing his approach, an Abyss cultist burst from the target building in a frantic attempt to escape.

In his fury, Byron immediately called out the man’s name.

“Senge!” Byron’s voice thundered. “This time, you won’t escape me.”

As he spoke, a massive flame dome covered the ground.

Dense flame puppets moved in intricate patterns, creating a massive ritual array that served as a sealing barrier.

Since Senge’s last escape, Byron had been contemplating how to trap him.

This time, the man would not slip from his grasp.

“Heart-Burning Demon Puppet!”

Senge summoned his cursed puppet, a flame puppet similar to Byron’s own.

Roar!

But in his rage, Byron opened his mouth, and a massive shadow appeared behind him.

The air howled with fierce winds as Byron somehow swallowed Senge’s flame puppet whole.

Once trapped and stripped of mobility, Senge was no match for Byron, the Son of Wrath.

Byron descended from the sky, pressing Senge to the ground.

His immense power violently crushed Senge’s head as blood flowed down.

Byron’s rage, suppressed for years, finally found a slight release.

“Tell me, Fallen High Priest Senge!”

“Where is your Abyss Cult High Priest? Where is he now?”

Senge was barely clinging to life, yet he let out a light laugh.

“High Priest?”

“The High Priest died long ago, right after the Son of Wrath ritual.”

Byron refused to believe it. “Died?”

“Do you think I’ll believe that?”

Senge, crushed and struggling to breathe, continued to laugh through his extreme pain.

“What’s so strange about death?”

“I killed him myself!”

Byron’s grip tightened. “You killed him?”

Senge seemed to accept his inevitable death, becoming indifferent.

“At this point, there’s nothing left to hide.”

“Don’t you know?”

“That ritual was planned jointly by us and the Dark Moon General.”

He shouted, “Dark Moon was about to fail then! He needed a disaster to secure his position as general, a disaster to divert everyone’s attention!”

“Haven’t you realized who benefited most from that ritual?”

“It was Dark Moon!”

Senge was in a frenzied state. His head was nearly crushed, yet he still struggled violently, his movements conveying his excitement.

“The Son of Wrath ritual allowed him to take control of the Royal Court of Ten Thousand Serpents. It stabilized his position and gave him you, the Son of Wrath!”

“We collaborated long ago.”

“Do you know? Dark Moon’s weapon, Moon Eclipse’s Remnant Light? I forged it.”

“Hahahahaha!“

“Surprised, aren’t you!”

“Back then, he needed us to create a disaster, and we needed him to help us create the Son of Wrath. I also used his hand to eliminate my enemies and become the Abyss Cult High Priest.”

Senge now behaved like a complete Abyss Cult madman.

“That disaster was truly wonderful! We both won! We both won!”

“Dark Moon is a madman too!”

“He shouldn’t be a general. He should join our Abyss Cult. He’s truly a… fallen one!”

This news completely shocked Byron. His hand gripped Senge’s head so tightly his nails dug into bone.

Yet contrary to his violent action, his head shook slowly in denial.

“I don’t believe it.”

“I don’t believe it.”

But his heart had already begun to believe.

Byron’s expression shifted suddenly. Without warning, he let out a loud shout.

“I don’t believe it!”

Then, he began reading Senge’s memories.

This method had limited effect on Ability Users of Byron’s level. Even when completely subdued, it was only possible to glimpse fragments of memory. There was a high chance of not finding the desired information, as one could only see what the other happened to recall at that moment.

If the person deliberately controlled their thoughts, he would gain nothing.

For a powerful Ability User, controlling what they recalled was not difficult.

However, at this moment, Senge did not resist Byron’s divine technique. He even subtly cooperated.

Byron’s consciousness delved into Senge’s memories. Scenes shifted rapidly until they arrived at a moment from years ago.

There stood the Dark Moon General’s mansion in Fort Pence.

It was evening. The disaster had not yet erupted, and Byron was still a naive youth.

That morning, he had questioned the Dark Moon General in the street, then argued with his father upon returning home.

He had not anticipated that everything for that day had already been arranged.

On that day, Senge, who was then only a Fallen High Priest, wore a cloak that concealed his form and face. He was invited by the deputy commander into a magnificent mansion, where he saw a figure practicing swordsmanship.

It was the man Byron had trusted most.

The Dark Moon General seemed to know Senge already and conversed with him naturally.

Finally, Senge told the Dark Moon something.

“The Son of Wrath will soon be born.”

“I urge the General to prepare, for he will possess power at the level of an apostle, or even beyond.”

In Wing Demon City, within the flame barrier, Byron suddenly released his grip on Senge’s skull. Senge collapsed to the ground, barely clinging to life, his breaths shallow and labored.

He was tortured beyond recognition, convulsing on the ground.

And now, Byron fully understood why everything felt so strange.

He understood why the Dark Moon General had resolved the disaster so quickly. It was clear why Dark Moon was so determined to eliminate the leaders of the Southern City-State Alliance. He also realized why he had been prevented from attacking Wing Demon City and reassigned to the border.

“So… everything was like this?”

Senge coughed up blood, his entire body a bloody mess.

He could not move at all, only turning his eyes to look at Byron.

“How about that?”

“Isn’t the truth quite desperate?”

Seeing Byron’s despair, he grew smug.

“Byron, I told you. You’re just a sacrifice!”

“Your father, your mother, your elder brother and sister, even yourself.”

“All sacrifices for Dark Moon’s ideal.”

“He sacrificed your entire family, sacrificed you, to forge his ideal kingdom.”

Senge loudly praised Byron as though he were a great hero, but his words carried a sharp, mocking tone.

“Ah, Byron!” Senge exclaimed with a twisted grin. “How great you are! A true masterpiece of wrath and despair.”

“Sacrificing yourself, sacrificing everything you had, to illuminate this world.”

“Everyone found salvation. Only you and your family fell into purgatory.”

“Hahahahaha!“

“How wonderful! How wonderful! Dark Moon, you’re truly creative.”

Finally, Senge looked at Byron.

With one statement, he completely shattered Byron’s last defense.

“Do you hear it?”

“The sound of your mother falling into purgatory?”

“Byron… it hurts so much!”

“The fire is burning… it’s burning me…”

“It really hurts.”

“Byron… Byron… save me… By…”

Byron completely lost his mind. His body trembled uncontrollably as fierce flames erupted from within him.

Senge had pushed Byron’s fury to its peak, stoking the flames within him to an unimaginable intensity.

Byron’s chest radiated with a mythological light. The Seed of Wrath was being fully absorbed. He was steadily approaching the threshold of the Son of Wrath, moving closer to becoming the true King of Wrath.

A massive flame giant emerged in the city, its great fires on the verge of spreading uncontrollably. However, Byron appeared to hold onto one final thread of rationality.

He kept the flames contained around himself. He did not release them into the city, did not transform Wing Demon City into a sea of fire.

But the city descended into chaos. Thousands watched the flame giant, fleeing into the distance.

“Monster… monster!”

“Fire! The fire is coming again!”

“Run!”

“Run quickly!”

“Go outside! Get away from here quickly!”

Amidst the raging flames, Byron transformed into a giant, watching as Senge slowly rose, barely clinging to life.

He said nothing. He showed no expression.

For now, no words could express his fury. No expression could capture the hatred in his heart.

His pupils had completely vanished, replaced by wrathful flames.

Flames spread from within Senge, burning his bones and blood until they dried up.

Dying in the most cruel and painful way imaginable, Senge too became a sacrifice, consumed by wrathful fire and sent to the Purgatory Embryo in the Dream Realm.

Amid the great fire, his voice gradually faded as he was sacrificed.

He no longer seemed mad. In the moment before his form turned to ash, he spoke the final words of his life.

“Go, Byron!”

“Go!”

His voice was hoarse, filled with a hatred like Byron’s own.

“Unleash your rage upon the true enemy. Upon this world.”

Senge died, but the hatred and rage in Byron’s chest continued to accumulate.

Hatred and wrath were about to consume his reason.

At that moment, the sky turned blood-red. A river of blood surged from above, encircling Wing Demon City.

A figure appeared within the blood river, raising his weapon.

The prince of Suinhor had arrived.

“Byron, the fallen one!”

“Divine punishment is upon you!”