Realm of Separation

"What a pity, it's still too late."

The moment the words fell, Saliba's body twisted uncontrollably, stretching out from every orifice as if it were a three-dimensional figure undergoing topological unfolding, spreading evenly across the ground for several meters in every direction.

Not a sound was made.

"Tch, running so fast."

Veronica looked up in displeasure, gazing into the clouds where a whale-like form surged, its massive maw wide open, swallowing lightning amidst tremors and growing even more gargantuan.

The crimson clouds, which nearly covered the entire firmament, began to writhe. Countless threads descended like a torrential downpour, connecting from afar to every single patient suffering from the blood-thirst, welcoming the harvest season like a diligent old farmer.

Pain took root and sprouted from the flesh, blooming into bewitching flowers.

By way of the Mark of Beelzebub, Saliba was able to wield the authority of the "plague spread through blood," and wide-area spiritual interference was his specialty. At this moment, those souls trapped by hunger and tormented by greed welcomed the relief they had so desperately sought, only to be ripped from their distorted bodies and cast into a new kind of suffering.

The pleasure born of temptation rotted and festered, leaving behind only endless torment, endless agony, and endless...

Hell!

Pain, hunger, exhaustion, mania, despair.

Patients who had tasted the sweetness of health craved recovery; vagrants who had tasted the sweetness of food craved satiety; old men who had tasted the sweetness of youth craved their prime...

First, a generous gift, then a ruthless theft. The bitter wine brewed from the many negative emotions born of blood was greedily drained by Saliba, stored in his belly as fuel to sustain the beating of that heart.

It would be soon, very soon. Just a little more, a bit more, and he could truly form a self-sustaining cycle, shed the derogatory title of "Lord of the Flies," and trace back a glimmer of the glory of the supreme god from the ancient lands of Canaan. With the authority of thunder and storms in his grasp, he would ascend to the highest heavens.

Thus, the clouds expanded, swelled, and stretched outward, as if the apocalypse had arrived, arrogantly attempting to drag everything within reach into this fertile soil irrigated by fresh blood.

And then, all phenomena came to an abrupt halt!

The expansion of the boundary, the Blood Field, first slowed, then stagnated, and finally, emitted a groan of unbearable strain as it collapsed inward.

It happened under the gaze of those eyes.

Raising her hand, Veronica removed the sunglasses that had concealed her sharpness. Her pupils, vertical like those of a cat or an owl, split open like doors, golden-purple phantom light overflowing as she looked down upon the entire boundary from on high.

The young girl parted her lips, and a language older than any living thing coiled forth like a serpent.

"A God of Stone Source still remains—she guards all the gates. One gate shall open briefly, right now. Later, another separation is destined to occur."

Secret Tradition: Threshold Invocation!

Next, under the gaze of those eyes, the crimson boundary was clearly and distinctly divided in two: the crimson clouds were pushed to one side, half the sky suddenly cleared, the horizon became as flat and sharp as a blade, and every angle cast by the shadows became distinct.

On the horizon, the rising glow rendered the purple twilight in shades of gold and red, and the scent of hawthorn blossoms permeated the air for no reason, carrying an aura of slaughter.

The world was turned upside down.

The grand secret ritual used for sealing and isolation was cast by Veronica with effortless ease. The Blood Field that belonged entirely to Saliba was crudely pried open, and a force inserted itself without question, seizing a full half of the control and twisting the crimson world into its current appearance.

It was so magnificent, so cruel, that merely gazing upon it made one weep involuntarily, drowning in the sorrow of parting.

"Realm of Separation?!"

Witnessing what was akin to a miracle, Saliba felt an inexplicable sense of familiarity.

He had assumed it was an Executioner sent by the Prevention and Suppression Bureau, but even those madmen who had buried countless monsters could not possess this overly sharp power of the Key.

The precise principles meant for opening and dismantling were being used to cut through everything so crudely; it was as if she had one foot inside the domain of the Blade.

Since when did the Prevention and Suppression Bureau have such a god-defying monster?

Had he underestimated her?

No, that wasn't it...

Upon seeing that unconcealed face, Saliba had already arrived at the expected answer.

"Gate Legion, beast of the border, symbol of the Double-Horned Axe, you are..."

Defying the constraints of gravity, Veronica's figure had already appeared within the boundary, at the dividing line between the two distinct realms. Her loose golden hair flew in the storm, and her beautiful face was devoid of joy or sorrow, yet it exuded the solemnity of a reaper and the ferocity of a beast.

"--Key Holder!"

"Regrettably, a former Key Holder, if they have already chosen a newcomer to replace me."

Veronica reached out to brush her waist, sighing with a sense of nostalgia.

"Since leaving the Gate Legion, few have called me by that name."

Hiss—

Saliba's true form, which had been swimming through the clouds like a whale, abruptly paused. Massive chunks of flesh fell from the sky, slamming onto the road like overripe oranges and splashing with rotting juices.

This was because a humming purple glare was dancing in Veronica's hand, constrained into the shape of a sword, stretching along the path of her swipe and extending into a stream of light that traversed the horizon.

A grievous wound!

With just a single strike, Saliba's body, currently in the midst of metamorphosis, was nearly torn in two. The severed edges revealed pale bones and internal organs stacked as densely as grapes, with a massive amount of spirituality spraying outward along with the viscous blood.

Pity, it still wasn't enough.

"Wrong, wrong, you are not, too weak, too weak! If you were the true Key Holder, how would the Gate Legion have allowed you to leave? How would the Prevention and Suppression Bureau have allowed you to arrive?"

On his massive body, twisted flesh grew rapidly, and countless crimson threads reshaped Saliba's face. On that face, which had returned to its youth, there appeared a mocking smile.

He felt so fortunate.

Among the Eight Great Principles and their many derivatives, the Principle of [Blood] has always been renowned for its tenacious vitality and rapid self-healing speed. As for the Path of Devouring that Saliba walked, it was characterized by being impossible to kill or hack to pieces; he could get back on his feet and feel refreshed after just a few sips of blood, making it a veritable cockroach of a path.

Furthermore, even if the ritual anchor points he had previously set up were pulled out one by one, as long as he had the vitality continuously infused by the [Restless Blood], he could still reorganize his body and continue jumping around even if he were truly beaten into a puddle of mush.

What surprised him most was that the woman before him was not as strong as he had imagined!

One had to know that every [Key Holder] of the Gate Legion inherited the destiny of being the "Key of the Sealed Gate." As long as one could bear this destiny, they could use it as the foundation for their achievements and instantly ascend to become an [Immortal], remaining so until they were worn away alongside their great achievements throughout the long passage of duty.

Although the technique the young girl had just used to sever the boundary was simply exquisite, if she were truly an Immortal, why would she need to be so circuitous?

Wouldn't it be better to just drag him out and kill him directly?

Therefore, when he saw the girl pause for a moment after unleashing a massive strike, remaining in place to catch her breath, Saliba smiled sincerely.

Will I win?

I will win!