Zhao Kongcheng was staring intently at the boy standing before him, who was taller than himself by half a head.

If his eyes weren't deceiving him, this boy's pupils had turned into golden vertical slits just moments ago—identical to those of the shadowy black dragon that had manifested earlier.

Zhao Kongcheng could clearly sense that the boy harbored no malice, which allowed him to let out a breath of relief. Yet his mind raced with thoughts.

Could this boy also be an agent of a god?

The dragon shadow seemed to have been drawn here by the aura of Michael.

With that thought, Zhao Kongcheng shifted his gaze toward Lin Qiye, who had been silent all this time. Lin Qiye didn’t so much as glance at him; his eyes remained locked on the golden-eyed boy, his expression laced with palpable vigilance.

Lin Qiye had every reason to be on guard. The events of tonight were far too unusual for him to remain calm.

First, there was Lin Xuan’s strange behavior. Then, the encounter with the ghost-faced man. And after that, he once again saw that angel standing on the moon.

And now, when he opened his eyes, he saw dark, ominous mists coalescing around Lin Xuan, enveloping him completely.

That was when the enormous shadow of a black dragon appeared in the sky.

Lin Qiye was dumbfounded.

Previously, even though he couldn’t open his eyes, he had always been able to "see" everything within a ten-meter radius.

Coupled with the angel he once saw on the moon, Lin Qiye had long been convinced that this world contained supernatural powers, just like in the novels he had read.

The ghost-faced man only solidified that belief.

But someone had to explain to him what this massive black dragon shadow was supposed to be.

This presence... it's no less overwhelming than that of the angel on the moon!

Zhao Kongcheng quickly snapped out of his thoughts. His eyes flicked to the corpse of the ghost-faced man.

Yep, turned into mush.

Then, he redirected his attention to the two boys.

One had a faint golden sheen glimmering in his eyes, standing there dusty and disheveled. The other, the golden-eyed boy, looked spotless—completely unaffected, as if he hadn’t encountered the ghost-faced man at all.

But whether they had encountered the ghost-faced man didn’t matter anymore.

Zhao Kongcheng was far more concerned about something else.

These two boys seemed to be agents of gods.

Two divine agents appearing at once? This is absurd.

Just as Zhao Kongcheng was contemplating the situation, a gust of wind heralded the arrival of another figure—a young man clad in a dark red cloak, descending gracefully to the ground.

Lin Xuan immediately noticed the new arrival's hands, each bearing a scar across the palms.

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It was Wu Xiangnan, once known as the Undying Swordsman.

The moment Wu Xiangnan arrived, his gaze locked onto Lin Xuan.

Seeing this, Lin Xuan stepped forward without hesitation.

"Hello, my name is Lin Xuan," he greeted.

Wu Xiangnan was visibly taken aback by Lin Xuan’s initiative to engage in conversation but quickly felt a sense of relief.

It seems like this one can be reasoned with.

After all, the aura Wu Xiangnan had sensed earlier was filled with such ferocity and madness that it rivaled even the legendary Susano’o.

But here stood the god's agent, seemingly easy to talk to.

Wu Xiangnan offered a smile and extended his hand.

“You can call me Wu Xiangnan… Could we step aside for a moment? This isn’t the best place to talk.”

“Sure.”

When Lin Xuan agreed, Wu Xiangnan turned toward Zhao Kongcheng.

“Old Zhao.”

“Got it,” Zhao Kongcheng replied before Wu Xiangnan could finish.

Having worked together for years, Zhao Kongcheng instantly understood his colleague’s intent: to communicate with Michael’s agent and possibly recruit him into the Night Watchers.

Lin Xuan and Wu Xiangnan ended up at a street corner, where Wu Xiangnan casually crouched down.

Seeing this, Lin Xuan sat on the curb as well.

“Lin Xuan, I take it you’re an agent of a god? Oh, wait, you might not even know what that means…”

“I know,” Lin Xuan interrupted.

He could have pretended not to, but he saw no reason to do so.

It was better to communicate efficiently, especially since he knew, having read the original work, that Wu Xiangnan was trustworthy—someone to whom he could entrust his back.

Lin Xuan decided not to conceal his knowledge about divine agents.

“That black dragon is Nidhogg, the dragon from Norse mythology that gnaws on the roots of Yggdrasil, the World Tree.”

“Nidhogg?”

Wu Xiangnan was visibly shocked.

He had suspected that the black dragon’s status must have been high, but this exceeded his expectations.

Nidhogg—a name he was all too familiar with.

For the Night Watchers, knowledge of various mythologies was a required skill.

The infamous Dragon of Despair, directly linked to the apocalyptic Ragnarök.

Such a terrifying existence?!

The overwhelming brutality and frenzy Wu Xiangnan had felt earlier now made sense. It was precisely as Nidhogg was described.

In mythology, the souls burdened with hatred and resentment ultimately fall into Niflheim, the domain of Nidhogg.

There, these souls, consumed with malice toward the world, await the end of days.

Unlike the deathly realms ruled by Hela, Niflheim only collects vengeful spirits, serving as a reservoir of hatred poised to destroy the world.

And Nidhogg, the dragon, was the sovereign of this realm of death.

The thought alone made Wu Xiangnan shudder.

Nidhogg’s godly power was unparalleled, its very nature antithetical to the sanctity of gods like Michael.

Whereas Michael embodied holiness and divinity, Nidhogg was the epitome of malice and destruction.

Even Odin, the king of the gods, could only appease Nidhogg by feeding it the souls of sinners to slow its gnawing on the World Tree’s roots—not stop it, just delay it.

Its terror cannot be overstated.

Wu Xiangnan’s expression grew more serious as he fell into a prolonged silence.

“And… has it given you any instructions?” he finally asked.

“Kill,” Lin Xuan replied simply.

“Kill?”

“Yes, and I must do it myself. The stronger the beings I kill, the better.”

Lin Xuan’s words were calculated.

Agents received powers from their gods, but they were also tasked with carrying out their gods’ will.

Since Nidhogg didn’t actually exist, Lin Xuan had to fabricate its “command.”

It had to be a directive that didn’t conflict directly with the Night Watchers or the Da Xia nation but still aligned with Nidhogg’s identity as the Dragon of Death.

For Lin Xuan, killing powerful mystical beings was a path to refining his bloodline. The stronger the beings he slew, the greater his enhancement.

Thus, the directive made perfect sense.

Nidhogg demanded Lin Xuan to kill—logical and fitting.

Wu Xiangnan, however, remained unsurprised.

Honestly, even if Nidhogg’s command was to destroy the world, it wouldn’t have shocked him.

A mandate for slaughter, especially of the strong, seemed almost moderate by comparison.

But Wu Xiangnan couldn’t help but suspect that what Nidhogg truly wanted wasn’t just bloodshed—it wanted the souls of the beings Lin Xuan killed.

After all, Nidhogg’s domain, Niflheim, was built to harbor such souls.

Still, Wu Xiangnan wasn’t naïve enough to trust Lin Xuan completely. Even if Nidhogg had demanded the world’s destruction, Lin Xuan wouldn’t be foolish enough to admit it outright.

“Can you share what abilities Nidhogg granted you?”

Given Nidhogg’s infamy, its bestowed power was unlikely to be anything less than extraordinary.

Lin Xuan’s reply was straightforward:

“Time acceleration.”

“Huh?”

Note: Unlike Hela’s control over Helheim, Niflheim only harbors spirits laden with resentment.