The Devil’s Cage

The shadow energy that was gathered from the entire city grew into a substantial size; it was frenzied and ruthless.

After drowning the whole treasure vault, it started to gush outside to the surface.

Krooom!

Karoooom!!

Another thunderous growl.

The Saint Cyanda Imperial palace then vanished from Dawn City.

Not just the Imperial palace though, the guards in front of the palace, the square for banquets, and the imperial guard’s military camp that was stationed in the surrounding area as well as the buildings in the inner city and 24 archer towers, all vanished into darkness as if a black hole had consumed everything.

On the ground was a hundred-meter deep and thousand-meter wide crater.

The lingering shadow energy was still wreaking havoc and whipped up a freezing wind that caused one to shudder.

The black mantle was completely gone, the dark red armor was terribly damaged and only half of the devil family emblem was left.

Blood fell from the Marquis’ mouth.

His hand was grabbing Reinholt by the neck and the lingering heat from the devil flame suffocated Reinholt; Reinholt felt the presence of death.

Despite the scene, Burning Marquis’ hand could not squeeze another inch further, because…

A shadow longsword pierced the Marquis’ chest.

Going through multiple changes of target and finally getting a clear one, how could Reinholt not prepare some countermeasures to specifically target the Marquis?

Especially after he became Reinholt and got his new body, it was necessary for him to set up those countermeasures.

However, Reinholt was not in a relaxed state either, even with his new body, the powerful and endless potential from his bloodline still brought him close to death.

Reinholt knew his body condition, he knew he had to rest and drink potions but he dared not let go of his hand holding the shadow longsword. If he did, he would die.

“Didn’t see this coming eh?”

Reinhold had a hard time uttering those words because his neck was being seized.

“Hmph!”

The Burning Marquis coldly grunted without giving a reply.

It was disdain and at the same time, being unable to utter a response.

From the looks of both their injuries on the outside, Reinholt suffered a more severe injury because of his broken limbs and body but in fact, a special kind of energy was destroying the Burning Marquis’ body.

His organs, muscles, and bones had received various levels of damage and it was already the optimal result after he utilized all of his bloodline power to resist the energy inside him.

But compared to his own injuries, the Burning Marquis was more concerned about Saint Cyanda XI.

From the moment the shadow energy exploded, the king’s presence had become weak in the Burning Marquis’ sense, as if a person vanished from sight yet the shadow was still around; it was strange.

However, what concerned him more than any of that was… the present danger!

A heavy dangerous presence was spreading in the Marquis’ heart, causing him to feel bad about what would happen next.

Reinholt, however, did not possess such senses. After gaining a new body that reduced his original strength plus the explosion that just happened, his strength had fallen to a new low; Reinholt only saw a single enemy in his eye, the Burning Marquis.

As for Saint Cyanda XI?

In Reinholt’s point of view, the king must be dead. He didn’t believe that the king could still be alive even if the king activated the Imperial secret treasure vault beforehand.

There was certainly no items or equipment in the treasure vault that could resist the shadow explosion.

The “crown” could though but if Saint Cyanda XI could use the “crown”, he wouldn’t have hidden for so many years.

Or it should be that, in the current dungeon world, if any of the three, Burning, Dawn or Saint Cyanda could use the “crown” in the first place, none of all the previous incidents would happen.

As for the “secret key”?

It was even more impossible.

As its name suggested, its function was to open the “grave”, not open a protective field.

Anyone who dared venture into the grave would not leave in one piece.

“Let’s see which of us has a stronger life… UGH!”

Reinholt was looking at the Burning Marquis viciously but before his words could finish, he was decapitated.

A sharp sword slashed over Reinholt’s neck with a cold flash; it chopped off a few fingers of the Burning Marquis as well.

“Aiyaiya, I’m sorry I hurt you.”

The sly and insincere voice sounded as Saint Cyanda XI appeared before the Burning Marquis with a sword. He was looking at the Burning Marquis like he was sizing up cargo.

The feeling was very unsettling for the Burning Marquis but what more unsettling was the aura, presence from the current Saint Cyanda XI.

The original Saint Cyanda XI was an old man, perhaps he had plotted and calculated meticulously, but his age was no doubt very high. However, the Saint Cyanda XI before the Marquis made him feel like a young man, the presence of a lively young man.

The strange thing was, the feeling that should have conflicted itself felt very suitable as if the Burning Marquis was looking at an elder with a young heart but the more he felt as such, the more he felt uncomfortable.

As if… he saw some monster in human skin.

“Ah, it’s nostalgic being back here again. Despite the vault being rebuilt, I knew it would be destroyed in the end but to see it myself really made me feel sad.”

Saint Cyanda XI sized up the disordered surroundings before he said.

“Who are you?!” The Burning Marquis asked in a heavy tone.

“Who am I? Well…”

“You can call me Saint Cyanda the VI, or the Son of Moon, or even… Broker!”

Amidst the disgusting voice of Broker, he grabbed the longsword made out of shadows and pushed it up further without caring about the corrosion from the shadow energy.

Puk!

Half of the Burning Marquis’ body was sliced open as blood splashed out.

Broker grabbed some of the fresh blood with his hand and lightly sniffed it; he sighed as if he was intoxicated.

“The most praised devil’s blood, one of the filthiest bloodlines there is.”

“This is also the essential ingredients in reviving a sinner.”

Broker sounded like he talking to himself and explaining everything at the same time.

A pile of meat paste appeared out of thin air in front of Broker.

“You want to revive him?”

Relying on his powerful bloodline, Burning Marquis was lingering on his last breath as he watched the scene with a small portion of his body sliced open.

Based on the lingering energy on the pile of meat, the Burning Marquis was certain it was the flesh and blood of the dead assassin but why the person before him did all this was baffling to him.

“Yup. Of course I want to revive him. After all, all the arrangements I made was just to revive him. For my “paradise”, we have to hurry up, otherwise, that troublesome fella will appear again.”

Broker answered without being too concerned.

Just like Broker’s foresight in arranging the revival process, everything was very casual yet effective.

As the blood was dropped on the meat, a dark, gloomy light appeared; it could easily disgust a person.

Extremus’ flesh and blood started to wriggle.

The pile of flesh acted like as if it came alive and jumped towards the Burning Marquis.

His torso was enveloped first, followed by this limbs and eventually his head.

When almost half of his head was covered by the flesh, Broker lightly grunted while full of anticipation.

A light grunt should carry a tune of joy, similar to Broker’s current mood.

However, immediately, Broker’s joyous mood was destroyed.

A huge light sword broke the darkness before dawn and fell down from the sky with the utmost keenness and indomitable force.