Chapter 467 - The End

Bologue found it hard to remember what happened next. His last memory was the surge of Ether reaction, followed by an explosion-like sensation as the Immortal Heart shattered into chaotic fragments before him.The overwhelming fatigue eventually overpowered Bologue’s will, causing the unstoppable cold machine to fall into a brief slumber.

When Bologue regained consciousness, he remained in the bloody battlefield, but this time, there were no longer hateful enemies; only familiar figures, each playing their role, dealing with the aftermath of the disaster.

"You’re awake?"

Geoffrey’s voice sounded beside him. Bologue turned his head and saw Geoffrey standing next to him, shirtless with scars, a cigarette resting in his mouth, soothingly inhaling.

The smoke rose and spread, obscuring his face, but Bologue could still see the golden glint of his eyes through the mist.

Bologue felt a splitting headache, "How long was I unconscious?"

"Not long, just a few minutes."

Bologue sat up awkwardly, trying to recall the void world after death, but his memory was empty.

It seemed Bologue hadn’t actually died but had fainted from exhaustion; for that, he had to thank Aimou’s Ether support, otherwise Bologue would have fallen into hibernation.

With the termination of the Immortal Heart, the rampant, crazed flesh was finally restrained, and the faint sounds of collapse continued to resonate from the pallid flesh ground beneath his feet, slowly disintegrating into dust and dissipating.

Bologue struggled to stand, even though he was revived, his body was filled with fatigue and unbearable pain. His self-healing was incomplete. His hands groped clumsily, trying to find a weapon to grip.

"Don’t be tense, it’s all over."

Geoffrey reassured him, his tone relaxed and soothing, pointing his finger forward.

Bologue followed the direction, seeing fearsome fellows right ahead, donned in white protective clothing, handling the remnants of the battlefield.

Scorching streams of fire were released from the flamethrowers. When Red Mercury burned, it emitted massive heat energy, perfectly suited to deal with twisted, growing flesh.

The coagulated flesh burned into black char, exuding a nauseating ashy scent, filling every corner of the air.

Bologue couldn’t help but cover his nose and mouth, then he saw those drifting, ash-gray fragments, sliding down like snowflakes, embracing the Sea of Mist below with the caress of the breeze.

The Great Rift ignited with raging flames, the people clad in white protective clothing were setting fires liberally to eradicate the flesh spreading across the cliffs cleanly, and on their shoulders, Bologue saw those familiar markings.

The scepter denied by black graffiti, the emblem of the Ninth Group, Atheists.

"The Great Rift is influenced by rampant forces, making the Curved Path Breakthrough difficult for personnel transportation. Despite the Ninth Group accelerating their actions, they encountered numerous flesh creations at the battlefield’s perimeter, slowing them down to avoid disaster spread."

Geoffrey explained nearby. If it weren’t for the Ninth Group intercepting externally, the Immortal Heart spreading outside the Great Rift was only a matter of time. Once these wildly growing flesh reached the city area, the entire Oath City, Opus faced the risk of falling.

"Has the Sixth Group arrived?"

Bologue saw the Sixth Group, Violence Suppression Action Group... mainly because Hart was too recognizable. That guy was at least two meters tall, broad-shouldered like a giant among the crowd.

"Given the situation with the Immortal Heart, all mobilizable action groups were dispatched," Geoffrey took a deep breath, "and these Origin School Condensers are extremely adept at containing these troublesome entities."

"Containing?"

Bologue picked up Geoffrey’s phrasing.

"The Immortal Heart is, after all, the heart of Calamity, not so easily killed, at most incapacitated."

Geoffrey patted Bologue’s shoulder, signaling him to follow.

The flesh ground beneath their feet continued to collapse and disintegrate; fortunately, it was vast enough that even a complete collapse would take time. By the time it completely perished, the action groups’ tasks would have long concluded.

Geoffrey led Bologue to the center of the battlefield, surrounded by the Ninth Group and Sixth Group, where Bologue also saw the leaders of the two groups, Carnegie and Yas.

The Ninth Group, the Atheists, specialized in confronting Extraordinary Disasters caused by Devils. If not for the interference of the Special Operations Group, the responsibility for the Immortal Heart’s loss of control should fall on them.

As they entered the encirclement, Bologue saw the eerie object of immortality.

The Iron-Cutting Sword was nailed into the flesh on the ground, its cold Blade piercing the blood-red heart. At this moment, the Immortal Heart had ceased to beat, its surface covered in countless cracks, beneath which was a dense web-like texture.

With the combined efforts of Bologue and Lebius, the Iron-Cutting Sword severed the Immortal Heart, but regrettably, these forces alone weren’t sufficient to completely kill the Immortal Heart.

Absolute destruction and the undead, the unkillable, equaled each other, causing the heart to lose all its power and fall into hibernation.

Yas raised his hand, applying both Ethereal Prohibition and Ethereal Silence to the Immortal Heart, fully enveloping it in Ether vacuum, ensuring it couldn’t consume Ether to revive once more.

Carnegie brought over a containment box and carefully placed the Immortal Heart and the Iron-Cutting Sword inside together.

The containment box closed, as all the locks fastened one by one. A faint glow appeared on the black metal surface, then it completely turned into mundane matter without any more reactions.

"Containment complete, transport it back to the Safety Containment Department immediately."

Carnegie handed the containment box to his team members. Upon receiving the order, they carried the box back to the Order Bureau. For safety’s sake, Yas also assigned a few team members to escort the box.

The others stayed behind to continue dealing with the battlefield’s aftermath. From the cliff, someone poured down vast amounts of red mercury, the fiery liquid covering every surface, seeping into the rock crevices.

A few sparks fell, igniting it instantly. Blinding flames burst forth, resembling a burning waterfall. Amidst the intense blaze, the remaining flesh howled powerlessly, turning to gray-black snowflakes, leaving no trace behind.

The high temperature dispelled the winter chill, evaporating the pervasive mist.

Vision cleared, and Bologue walked towards the other side, looking around at the bodies being dug out from the rubble.

Those were the enemy’s corpses, the conspiracy of the King’s Shield Guard had been shattered, almost resulting in their total annihilation.

"Well done, Bologue." Yas noticed Bologue’s arrival and praised him.

"Where are the others?"

Bologue didn’t care about such compliments; he was more concerned about how the others were doing.

"Everyone’s alive... just need to be hospitalized for a while."

Geoffrey staggered over, followed by a few staff members.

Unlike other field staff involved in the battle, these guys wore medical protective clothing and gas masks. They followed Geoffrey, injecting potion into his body and bandaging gauze on the wounds.

Bologue saw the marks on these people. They were doctors from the Border Sanatorium.

Thinking about it, this time axis disruption event involved a lot, and various action groups had been mobilized. Not to mention, other departments too, the Logistics Department was cursing while handling follow-up matters, and the Border Sanatorium had also arrived to aid the injured field staff.

As Bologue pondered these matters, a doctor passing by noticed him and, without a word, gave him an injection in the neck.

"Don’t bother with him; he won’t die."

Geoffrey waved his hand, signaling the doctors not to disturb Bologue, indicating he needed more help than Bologue did at the moment.

He continued, "Give me another shot."

After another injection, Geoffrey felt significantly better, the pain in his body diminished. He took deep breaths, his expression utterly exhausted.

"Being an Undead is really convenient..."

Seeing Bologue’s relaxed demeanor, Geoffrey couldn’t help but sigh.

"Don’t worry, others are quite injured and have been transferred to the Border Sanatorium. If you’d woken up a minute earlier, you could have gone with them."

Hearing Geoffrey’s explanation, Bologue nodded. He still remembered the brutality of the battle, even as an Undead, he faced severe injuries, with his flesh devoured entirely. Not to mention the others.

Bologue recalled Palmer’s figure. He rarely showed such concern for his partner, unsure of that unfortunate guy’s condition, but since he’d been rescued by the Border Sanatorium, he should be fine now.

Even after receiving news about the others, Bologue couldn’t ease his mind. His gaze swept around as if searching for something.

Amidst the melee with the Silver Knight and the Immortal Heart, Bologue had to maintain intense mental focus, barely having time to think. Now that the fight had ended, thoughts surged like a tide, overwhelming Bologue’s mind.

He glanced around anxiously, and Geoffrey seemed to understand what Bologue was searching for. He turned around and waved his hand at the other side, as if summoning someone.

The other party noticed Geoffrey’s wave and then saw the awakened Bologue.

Bologue continued to glance around, then heard a series of rapidly approaching footsteps. The person seemed to be running toward him. Bologue turned cautiously, only to be struck by a familiar figure.

She moved swiftly, her entire body colliding into Bologue’s embrace with a flying leap, easily knocking him down.

Bologue felt like he’d been hit head-on by a motorcycle, his chest suffocating. He slid several meters on the ground before gradually coming to a stop.

His head was a bit dizzy, and upon opening his eyes, he saw the figure sitting on him. She was wrapped in a bloodstained, tattered robe... Bologue remembered it as Teda’s research robe, which he’d worn for many years and now had been picked up and inherited by her.

Against the light, Bologue couldn’t quite make out her face, but he knew who she was. Then some warm liquid splashed onto his face. Bologue thought the battle was over, so this shouldn’t be blood.

Bologue’s breathing calmed as he relaxed, lying on the ground, allowing the overwhelming fatigue to overtake him, falling into long-lost peace.