In the moment Geoffrey was distracted, amidst a thunderous roar, scarlet tentacles rose from the ground, wrapping around Geoffrey’s body. The surface of the flesh sprouted dense spikes, twisting forcefully, squeezing out a torrent of blood.
As they tried to entirely devour Geoffrey, a sharp blade flashed, and Bologue slashed through the layers of flesh.
"Bologue? What are you doing here!" Geoffrey saw Bologue and couldn’t understand why he returned.
"I am the Undead, I’m here to deal with it!"
Geoffrey hesitated as he watched Bologue, then saw Palmer swiftly escaping in the distance, carrying the Immortal Heart. Suddenly, he understood everything.
"No, it’s a conspiracy!"
Geoffrey roared, raising his gun, and the entity hidden in the shadows revealed its true form at this moment.
The Pretender released the hook and leapt down from the darkness above. His aura was somewhat weakened, limited by his tier, and the calamity he had created indeed had a significant discrepancy compared to a true calamity.
Fortunately, this was no longer important; the Pretender had shaped the situation perfectly by exploiting Geoffrey’s wariness of the calamity.
Palmer looked up, as the Pretender descended upon him like a nightmare, and the scarlet figure entangled on the Long Bridge began to dissipate into nothingness, losing the support of ether.
No one expected that in the chaotic struggle’s end, the Pretender would appear in such a manner. More importantly, he could create such an evil calamity.
Geoffrey had enough understanding of Illusion Creation, especially pure, spontaneous Illusion Creation. The forces that could restrict this kind of power were only two: the ether amount to sustain the secret energy’s operation and the Condenser’s own imagination.
All human fantasies are mixed and pieced together with known reality, like how humans can’t imagine colors beyond the visible spectrum; human capability limits the perception of vision.
Illusion Creation is the same, the Pretender couldn’t imagine things he hadn’t understood or witnessed.
But this calamity was so vivid, even its aura was similar, tinged with the madness of the Devil, forcing Geoffrey to reconsider how deep the Pretender’s knowledge of the Great Rift was.
The Pretender once served as the chief of the Sublimation Furnace Core with access to the secrets beneath the Great Rift, but reading in documentation and witnessing firsthand are entirely different matters.
Glancing at the constantly dissipating calamity by his side, Geoffrey was sure the Pretender had been deep into the Great Rift.
So how much did the Pretender know about the mysteries below?
As Geoffrey spoke of the conspiracy, Bologue had already sensed the error and shouted a warning to Palmer.
The fight with Latis made Bologue temporarily forget about the Pretender being such a formidable enemy. More importantly, Bologue didn’t expect the Pretender to hide his tracks until the last moment, and in Geoffrey’s presence, he dared to attack.
If a battle were to commence now, it would be tantamount to declaring war on the Order Bureau, driving the conflict in a direction Bologue least wanted to see.
"Teacher, he..." Aimou’s voice echoed.
"No, he was just influenced by the Tyrant’s power."
Bologue comforted Aimou, shifting the blame onto the Tyrant.
In this endless frenzy, with the Tyrant’s incitement, everyone’s deepest and most fervent greed was awakened.
Under the pale puppet mask, pupils rolled with pure white ether, and behind the Pretender, eight arms appeared, wielding sharp blades, crashing towards Palmer.
With a scream, Palmer turned swiftly, firing a hook towards Bologue and Geoffrey’s direction.
At this moment, the unlucky Palmer realized they had been lured away. From afar, Geoffrey fixed his gaze on the Pretender as a fierce aura emanated from him, expanding into an invisible wave crashing forward.
Though he also wore a mask, Geoffrey disliked masked individuals, as masks covered the eyes, making it difficult for him to gaze into the opponent’s eyes and thereby disrupt them.
Luckily, Geoffrey was a Negative Power User, having broken free from many of the secret energy limitations. Now, as long as he directly looked his opponent in the eye, he could exert some degree of influence, unable to fully immobilize them but able to slow their steps.
Though far from one another, the Pretender still sensed the ferocious gaze when it landed, feeling as though eyed by a savage beast, blood ran cold, heartbeat slowed, and every movement became sluggish.
Unfortunately, the Pretender’s tier was the same as Geoffrey’s; they were both Negative Power Users, and under the same tier, the influence of Geoffrey’s secret energy would weaken.
But for Palmer, this brief delay was enough for his escape.
With his understanding of the Pretender and the dire situation, Palmer now realized that the calamity was Illusion Creation, and the Pretender was willing to shred him apart to seize the Immortal Heart.
The remaining ether compressed behind him, the wind amassed like a compressed bomb, instantly detonated.
The violent wind tore at Palmer’s body, hurling him upwards like a shooting star.
Palmer’s speed was so fast that even he couldn’t control his direction, hurtling straight towards the abyss outside the Long Bridge.
The Delusional tried to keep up with Palmer, but streams of pure, ether condensed into entities crossed his path, blocking his steps with dazzling trails of light.
These were the alchemy armaments carried by Geoffrey, the paired firearm once shown to Bologue long ago, much like Palmer’s Thunderbolt Revolver. Geoffrey’s firearm allowed him to inject a large amount of ether into the bullet heads, turning them into ethereal bullets upon shooting.
The bullet heads sliced through the air, and then the ether exploded with a roar that forced the Delusional to evade. At this moment, Bologue also leaped from the Long Bridge.
Palmer’s speed slowed down, followed immediately by free fall.
His landing point was unfortunate; without any support nearby, he would plummet directly into the abyss.
Palmer let out cries of agony. He wanted to crack a cold joke to lighten the grim atmosphere, but as the protagonist of this atmosphere, he couldn’t open his mouth.
Bologue dashed out of the Long Bridge, firing a grappling hook towards the ruins, and as he approached Palmer, he threw the Deceitful Snake Scale Silver again, transforming snakes into an extended Silver Hand to catch the falling Palmer.
"I’ve got you!" Bologue shouted.
The Silver Hand quickly retracted, and Bologue held Palmer by the waist, the two of them swinging widely under the Long Bridge, supported by the grappling hook.
"Good news, the calamity is fake!" Palmer yelled in Bologue’s ear, "Bad news, he’s coming!"
Without Palmer’s words, Bologue had already felt the powerful ether reaction of the Delusional. One stone step after another rose and collapsed beneath the Delusional’s feet in mid-air.
Relying on Illusion Creation, even this complex and perilous terrain was leveled for the Delusional.
His disguise had been pierced, and he no longer concealed anything. But at this moment, sharp coldness attacked from behind him.
Perhaps because of Aimou, Bologue had a hint of undeserved leniency towards the Delusional, but when Lebius acted, it was absolute ruthlessness.
From the scattering of Illusion Creation’s calamity and the Delusional’s descent, the Blade-Biting Wolf silently lurked in the shadows.
Even among Negative Power Users, vast disparities existed, and Lebius was the most lethal among them.
As Lebius’s partner, Geoffrey still didn’t know how extensive Lebius’s secret energy influence was. In any case, during each battle, Lebius would leisurely sit aside, then dispatch packs of wolves to chase enemies. After waiting a moment, the wolves would return with the enemies’ heads.
It was the same now. Under Ethereal Concealment, the Blade-Biting Wolf silently appeared behind the Delusional, aiming a deadly blade at his heart. To ensure the kill, another blade cut towards the Delusional’s neck.
The cruel scene did not unfold. The blade did not hit a solid entity but sliced into a phantom bubble, and then the figure of the Delusional completely disappeared.
"Illusion Creation again!"
Bologue exclaimed, as he and Palmer swung back from the other side of the Long Bridge, catching this spectacle.
"Was this guy really just an Alchemist before?" Palmer shouted, "He could lead a field ops team!"
Geoffrey’s gaze turned stern. They had made a critical error, underestimating the Delusional.
Condensers often harbor the prejudice that Alchemists lack combat prowess, even if they become Negative Power Users; this power is regarded solely for research.
But now the Delusional shattered all of their biases. Seven years was enough for a rookie to become a seasoned soldier, and sufficient for an Alchemist to learn how to wield a sword.
"Shouldn’t it be said they’re of the same lineage?"
Bologue recalled Belli’s graceful swaying of the crowbar and had inquired about it.
"Transforming metals is physical labor. Sometimes we have to work like blacksmiths, manually wielding the hammer and refining metals, so physical training is crucial for an Alchemist."
"Of course, in the event of accidents, a robust physique significantly boosts our survival chances."
Geoffrey tightly gripped the Bone-breaking Knife. Presently, he regarded the Delusional as a genuine warrior and would handle him by the Field Operations Department rules.
For Field Staff, capturing enemies is never the first option; killing is. Only those who give their all but fail unexpectedly to kill have a chance to be retrieved.
Geoffrey firmly put on the mask. Under the surging ether, the mask animated, its fur dancing softly, like a true devil tiger.