Eternal Thief

The grand obsidian gates of the Obsidian Spirit Hall trembled as a shadow fell across them. From the depths of the Hollow streets, a colossal black palanquin floated forth, borne aloft by twelve abyssal beasts with bone-armored hides and eyes burning with ghostly flame.

Above, banners of ivory and dusk fluttered, each etched with the bone sigil of the Abyssal Bone Marquis!

Gasps and fearful whispers rippled through the crowd outside the Hall.

"The Abyssal Bone Marquis himself has come!"

"Why would he descend here personally… Could it be… for the Ancient Abyssal Permit?!"

"No… no, this is too sudden. But if it is for the Permit, then who else but him would dare snatch it away? However, did the Marquis know the entire truth?!"

The palanquin came to a stop before the gates, and with a groan of tortured iron, the doors swung wide.

From within stepped a towering figure draped in black-bone armor and a mantle of shadow fur. His horns gleamed like carved ivory, and his very breath was suffused with ethereal mist.

The Abyssal Bone Marquis—notorious for arrogance and unrestrained temper—had arrived in person. His crimson gaze swept the hall's facade, and a growl thundered from his throat, shaking the air.

"Hall Proprietor!" His roar was a storm of abyssal might, "Come forth! Do you dare cast my son into the streets like common filth? Today, I'll see this Hall buried beneath its own ashes!"

The ground itself quivered as his murderous aura spread, crushing the breath from weaker demons and driving them to their knees. The crowd scattered back in fear, but their eyes gleamed with morbid anticipation.

Furthermore, they were also confused about what the Abyssal Bone Marquis was even talking about, and it seemed he wasn't here for the Ancient Abyssal Permit but to settle some personal grudge!

Nonetheless, the crowd was aware that if it were another time, things might be different. However, at that moment, there was something present in the Obsidian Spirit Hall that even the Abyssal Bone Marquis couldn't dare to offend, at least not before conforming their identity.

That's why the Abyssal Bone Marquis, who trampled all beneath his will, dares raise his voice before the Crescent Demon Marquis's Hall despite the fact that Room 1 is occupied by the mysterious guest tied to the Dread Duchess…

They all knew that he had finally met a wall that would not break beneath his arrogance, and wanted to see him offended that person.

Expressions of dark glee, awe, and schadenfreude danced across the faces of the onlookers. They whispered, half-thrilled, half-terrified, waiting for the show to start.

But just as the Marquis's aura began to claw its way toward the Hall's foundation, a hurried voice rang in the vicinity, "F-father…wait!"

The hurried voice cut through the storm, and it was none other than the Young Marquis as he rushed forward from the side, his face tight with urgency.

At his side moved a pale, elegant woman draped in silken shadows, her presence sharp and veiled. This was the loyal protector secretly stationed by the Marquis himself to guard his son.

The sight of his heir momentarily stilled the Marquis's wrath. Yet when his gaze landed on his son's pale complexion and the tremor in his stride, his fury roared anew. His crimson eyes blazed as he mistook the unease for injury or humiliation.

"Who dared to bully my son?!" His voice shattered the air like rolling thunder. His aura swelled to terrifying force, threatening to reduce the entire Obsidian Spirit Hall into dust and bone.

But then, the woman beside the Young Marquis suddenly lifted her hand, her expression ghastly pale. With a flick of her finger, a thread of soul-light pierced into the Marquis's mind, a private message.

The Marquis was startled, aware of that woman's identity, and he didn't dodge the secret method when he heard the contents of those messages; the words within struck like cold iron into his heart.

The Bone Marquis froze mid-step. His aura faltered, stumbling like a great beast chained by an unseen hand. His eyes widened, trembling ever so slightly, before narrowing with sudden, raw disbelief.

"You… you cannot mean…" He muttered under his breath.

The woman bowed her head ever so slightly, her lips sealed, but her silence was confirmation enough.

For the first time in centuries, a trace of cold sweat trickled down the brow of the Abyssal Bone Marquis. His haughty posture loosened, and the storm of his arrogance faltered, replaced with the silence of a man standing before a bottomless abyss.

The crowd blinked in shock. Their gleeful anticipation turned into bewilderment as they witnessed the once-unbending tyrant's demeanor crack.

The Abyssal Bone Marquis, who had arrived in thunder and wrath, now stood motionless, his hand trembling faintly at his side, as though weighing life and death itself.

At that moment, the Young Marquis, still ignorant of the silent transmission that had already shaken his father, clenched his fists and stepped forward. His lips parted, voice strained with the tremor of both fear and desperation.

"Father, please listen! It—it wasn't the Hall's fault, nor was it mine. The truth is…"

He swallowed hard, the memory of Room 1's guest flashing across his mind like a blade scraping against his soul. His eyes quivered, betraying a fear he dared not fully voice.

The Abyssal Bone Marquis stood tall and stoic, crimson eyes fixed upon his son. He listened in silence, not interrupting, though his heart twisted at the sight of his heir's trembling form.

To see the boy—once so proud, so unyielding—reduced to this… it was like watching his lineage itself bleed.

Just as the Young Marquis began to stammer out the details, the Hall suddenly rippled with noise.

"Look! Someone else is coming out!"

"A cloaked figure… who is that?!"

"Do you think—could it be—the one from Room 1?!"

The exclamations surged like wildfire, drawing every gaze toward the great obsidian doors of the Hall.

From the shadowed threshold emerged a tall, cloaked figure. His stride was calm, unhurried, and yet each step seemed to silence the world around him. His face was veiled, his presence muted, but the weight of his existence pressed down on every soul like an unseen mountain.

It was naturally Ace, who had just dealt with the Hall Proprietor, but he wasn't expecting to see this kind of crowd outside, and he suddenly felt something was wrong until he spotted the Young Marquis!