Executioner.

Few people know that within the Clarks family, the patriarch also has such a title.

Fuen smiled at Bologue, "Elders and executioners mutually check each other. I need the elders' approval for major actions, and similarly, whatever the elders want to do requires my personal execution."

Bologue said softly, "Ralph can't kill Palmer; the oath restrains him."

"Actually, with some effort, it can be done. After all, oaths can be broken. But when he fully breaks it, the harsh oath will hasten his death... He fears death that much, as you've seen."

Bologue stared at Fuen, suddenly feeling a chill. Fuen's hold over the grand scheme made him truly uneasy.

"I always feel like you've been preparing for many years to clash with the Night Race."

"There's no choice. Every executioner receives such an education," Fuen admitted frankly, "The Night Race is immortal, but humans die. Over generations, ideologies inevitably become distorted."

"In fact, I always feel that until the last of the Night Race falls, the Dawn War is not truly over... I have been preparing, continuously readying for it."

Fuen spoke those frightening words nonchalantly.

"I'm sorry, human lives are too short; one can only achieve certain goals through some extreme methods."

Bologue took a deep breath. Only now did he feel that he truly understood Fuen.

Anyone who can be the patriarch of the Clarks is not a simple person. Just like Serey, if one is fooled by Fuen's casual facade, that would be truly lethal.

A document slid in front of Bologue, and Fuen gestured for him to open it, "You should look at this too. Our conflicts with the Night Race will only increase."

Bologue opened the document. It contained detailed intelligence on the Night Race, far more reliable than Serey's drunken tales.

"The currently active Night Race is led by a Night Race individual known as the Regent King. It's speculated that this Regent King is likely of the pureblood tier."

Bologue continued to flip through, finding a mention of the Night Race's mysterious Blood Ceremony.

The Night Race's Blood Ceremony is not as simple as imagined. It requires the implantation of Night Race blood into the target, then awakening the power of the contract within the blood to establish a blood contract with the Devil, thus becoming part of the Night Race.

Under the interference of Bologue and others, Ralph and Derby never had the opportunity to conduct the ceremony, let alone summon the Devil.

This reminded Bologue of Palmer's unfortunate experience, as if he had a peculiar fate with events like the ceremony.

Bologue asked, "I guess, if we weren't around, you planned to strike during the Blood Ceremony, right?"

Hearing this, Fuen smiled, taking three pens and aligning them together.

"If the angle is appropriate, Chekov's Gun could indeed hit two targets with one bullet."

Bologue thought Fuen resembled a cunning fox, fortunately, a fox on their side.

"Is Palmer really your son?" Bologue suddenly asked, "He seems incredibly dumb, whereas you... are too cunning."

Fuen sighed, "Hahaha, such things can be learned slowly. I never imagined that after becoming an executioner, I would turn out this way."

After understanding the inside story, Bologue asked, "What about those Night Race members? Any survivors?"

"There are several survivors. They thought the Fortress of the Morning Wind was weak, but it was just a facade we created deliberately. You weren't on the frontlines; you should have seen the panic in those Night Race members when they saw groups of Condensers appearing."

"No, I mean the ones I took down. Are there any survivors?"

Bologue didn't care about the frontline matters as he wasn't involved. He was more concerned with his own trophies.

"Oh... Let me see."

Fuen pulled out some documents and inspected, "According to the information we obtained, the Night Race member you dealt with, named Haiqi, is dead."

"Haiqi's blood tier was not high. Under your dismemberment and fiery execution, even an Undying Body was completely consumed. Zefirin, however, is still alive. Though she underwent the same execution as Haiqi, I managed to chisel her out from the Iron Coffin in time."

Fuen frowned, recalling the scene made him somewhat nauseous, as Condensers did everything to chisel the iron stone, bit by bit extracting the charred flesh.

If not for the doctors' confirmation of some ether reaction in Zefirin, they all thought that the twisted, deformed body ought to be dead.

"Derby is also alive. He is, after all, a Negative Power User, not so easy to kill."

Fuen added, "Now they've been transferred to the Crow's Nest, interrogated by Iron Whistles."

Bologue didn't listen to the latter part, flexing his wrist. It showed that the Undead were indeed hard to kill, but rendering them powerless was not a difficult task.

Bologue then fell silent for a while, with unresolved issues lingering in his mind. He felt Fuen couldn't give a definite answer, so he was too lazy to ask, choosing to digest these issues alone.

Fuen said, "You seem troubled."

"I'm contemplating something."

Bologue's mind continually flashed images of Ralph - his greed, fear, cowardice, kneeling, licking blood like a wild dog...

"As you know, I'm a Debtor, burdened with an Undying Body," Bologue said, "Unfortunately, I have no memory of becoming a Debtor, which means I don't know what deal I made or the reasons for it."

"But... obviously, the Gift of Immortality is only desired by those who fear death."

Mentioning this, there was a flicker of aversion in Bologue's eyes.

Fuen prompted, "So?"

"I'm somewhat afraid of the day when I discover the truth."

Bologue tried to maintain calmness, his voice devoid of emotion, "I'm afraid I truly sought the Gift of Immortality out of fear of death."

"Becoming what you despise, right?" Fuen smiled, "A violent bloodthirsty killer was initially just a... coward."

"Who knows? People change."

Bologue suddenly laughed, talking with Fuen about the more distant past, "When I first joined the army, it was just to earn money."

"Back then, I was naïve and clueless, but experiences changed me... or rather, I grew."

Bologue sighed, "Negotiating with the Devil is also part of my growth."

"I think you're merely lamenting the capriciousness of fate, not genuinely troubled."

Fuen noticed the key point, as Bologue seemed more like finding someone to chat with, not seeking help.

"Because I've figured out these things, long ago already figured them out."

Bologue summarized his life.

"No matter what I've been through, or what I am, one thing is certain, I will decide my own fate, and that's enough."

"Sounds pretty good."

"It is good."

Bologue stood up, "If the past me was indeed a coward, it doesn't matter. At least now, I have become brave."

Fuen gently clapped his hands, a silent applause.

"Mr. Lazarus, this is a perfect era, an era of destined fate."

Fuen's tone suddenly became solemn, light streaming through the floor-to-ceiling window behind him, casting his figure in a tall, sacred illumination.

"I don't know what this era means to you, but for me, for the Clarks, this is the opportunity we've waited a century for."

"Palmer, huh?"

Bologue had come to deeply understand Palmer's uniqueness; he was merely the technical vessel of Clark in this era, the destined next Executioner.

"Not just that, think carefully."

Fuen leaned on the table, suddenly standing with a fervent yet low voice.

"In your view, this is a time when ether concentration is continually rising. For us, it is an era when our Alchemy Matrix technology reaches its peak.

So, what about for the Night Race, for... the Night King?"

Bologue perceived the implication in Fuen's words, feeling shocked and... excited by the crazed idea.

"The Night King is far older than all of us, wielding an Alchemy Matrix that's beyond simply outdated.

In the Dawn War a century ago, he might have compensated for flaws with his tier, but now, this is our era. Alchemy Matrices beyond imagination are continually being developed. The gap between us and the Night King is narrowing, surpassing, and possibly even widening!"

Fuen could hardly contain his wild grin, painting that blood-soaked vision for Bologue.

"Now, we hold steel and gunpowder, while all the Night King has is a ridiculous rapier..."

"It is time to completely end the Eternal Night Race."

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