Chapter 774: The Visitor
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 774: The Visitor
Above the heavens, beneath the Abyss.
The endless yellow sands had been swept away, replaced by a deep, profound crimson that occupied the entire firmament. Where the sky met the spatial rift of the sealed Abyss, this redness resembled a massive, hideous wound—twisting, turning, and stretching as it tore through all of existence.
Had a being of sufficient strength been present to observe closely, they would have noticed another color hidden within that deep crimson. It was an indescribable hue, seemingly fused with the blood-red, or perhaps the depth of the crimson itself was derived from its presence.
All things vibrated in a wordless tremor. A terrifying collision was unfolding within that wound; space itself was being shattered and then instantly mended. Violent astral winds erupted from the pitch-black spatial rifts, only to be snuffed out a moment later by an even more formidable power.
Such collisions had occurred frequently over the past half-month. They took place far above the battlefield, yet their intensity was not a shred less than the bloody slaughter occurring upon the city walls.
For this was a battle at the level of Crown Bearers.
Boom!
The crimson wound suddenly fractured. A ninefold ring broke free from the deep red, hovering in the air amidst splashing arcs of lightning. As the thunderous glow dissipated, an elder with a bare torso—revealing a lean, bronze-colored physique—pressed his palms together. His gaze was calm as he looked toward the very center of the shifting colors.
Blood dripped from the crevices of his muscles. Each drop was as heavy as a mountain, yet at the final moment before hitting the ground, the terrifying residual power within caused them to burst into a drifting mist of blood.
"The Grand Duke of Collapse... you certainly live up to your reputation."
The Indra King spoke, his expression carrying a rare note of admiration. "The power to collapse all things is truly fearsome. In the end, my skill is still a step behind."
"You are being far too modest. It has likely been a hundred years since I was last wounded by a human."
A figure slowly stepped out from the center of the deep crimson.
This, too, was an old man. His face was solemn and unsmiling, his mottled white hair a testament to his advanced age, yet he possessed an aura of natural authority that commanded instinctive fear and respect from anyone who looked upon him.
However, on the side of the old man's neck, a massive flesh tumor grew along his skin, fused with half of his chest. Even the old man's entire left arm had been affected by this growth, appearing exceptionally thin and withered.
The tumor pulsed like the old man's heart. Most of it was concealed beneath coarse jute cloth, but where it was exposed, an eye sat—drowsy, half-lidded, and profoundly eerie.
The Demon Grand Duke, Collapse.
Few could have known that the rumored second-strongest of the Demon Race—the Grand Duke of Collapse, whose seniority was second only to the Grand Duke of Divine Will—was such a deformed and eccentric old man.
"Wounding you is hardly something to boast about. If this battle continues, I will undoubtedly face defeat."
Despite the other's grotesque appearance, the Indra King knew exactly how terrifying the Grand Duke of Collapse was.
Back in Belland, the Indra King had once defeated three Crown Bearers of the same realm single-handedly, one of whom was the Demon Race's Grand Duke Ghost Blood.
Yet, in the fierce fighting of the past half-month, he had remained at an absolute disadvantage.
Collapse was strong—stronger than him, stronger than the Lion King. Moreover, his power was a natural siege engine. With a single casual strike toward the Dolonslei Fortress, that hundred-meter-high Great Wall would instantly crumble into a pile of useless rubble.
That was why he had to keep the Grand Duke of Collapse pinned down here.
"It’s just..."
The Indra King let out an unexpected sigh. "I did not expect that someone as powerful as you would also be affected by that inexplicable influence."
Though they were fighting high in the sky, the Indra King was naturally aware of the anomalies on the battlefield. The dense clusters of corpses were floating beneath his feet. He only needed to look down slightly to see the horrific scene of tens of thousands of bodies rising and falling, like husks discarded by some predator after their essence had been drained.
And at this very moment, the Indra King could sense a certain eerie madness brewing within Collapse’s crimson, clouded pupils.
It was exactly like the demons who were currently slaughtering their own kind.
"Why is that a surprise?"
The Grand Duke of Collapse let out a calm chuckle, a sharp contrast to the madness in his eyes.
As the second-ranked Grand Duke of the Demon Race, he had always been taciturn, rigid, and cold. Rumors in the outside world claimed he was the only one who did not fear the Grand Duke of Divine Will, and might even be able to oppose him. But at this moment, behind that calm facade was the helplessness of a fate that could not be altered.
"I cannot defy Divine Will. The demons cannot defy Divine Will. The entire Demon Race cannot defy the will of Divine Will. To one who has obtained the authority left behind by that person, we who are bound are nothing more than slaves to be driven at a whim."
The Grand Duke of Collapse looked toward a certain point below.
A massive volcano was collapsing. Angry roars rose into the sky along with billowing clouds of soot. Within that smoke, half of a black robe fluttered before finally turning to ash.
"It is simply that after experiencing too many incomplete cycles of reincarnation, many have forgotten this fact."
"Will you not resist?" The Indra King stared into the Grand Duke’s eyes.
He found it hard to imagine that a powerhouse of this caliber would allow his soul to be submerged by such madness.
"Resist? There is no need, and it would not succeed."
"Why not try?"
"Someone once thought the same as you, but he failed. I will not do that, for I know that so-called resistance is destined to be a meaningless endeavor."
The Grand Duke of Collapse tilted his head, stroking the flesh tumor on his neck. The eye on the growth gradually opened, seemingly gazing into the distance—not toward the towering spires of the Ancient Gutons Fortress, but toward a crowded, cramped place further below.
He seemed to see something. His clouded eyes filled with pain and struggle, and then blood began to flow from them.
"We are all people of sin. We are destined to endure a thousand years of soul-deep suffering, destined to be imprisoned for a millennium, and then to fall into hell and turn to ash... All of this is our retribution."
"Retribution?"
The Indra King pondered for a moment. "You sound more like a group of ascetics."
"Heh... If asceticism could buy even a moment of salvation, I would gladly cast my soul into a burning cauldron. Unfortunately... for us, there has never been such a thing as salvation. That was proven a thousand years ago."
Collapse cast aside his sorrow, and the deep crimson once again tore through the world.
"Let us say this is for the sake of the so-called Demon Race. Come. There is still a little time left. Fight me... one last time."
*
Fire. Burning debris. Broken jars and pottery shattered amidst the frantic shadows. This modest, simple market had long since become a wreck. Everyone had begun to go mad... whether they were High-Class Demons, Low Demons, or even newborn demons who bit through their umbilical cords to fall into a death match with the "mothers" who had just birthed them.
In the shadows of the flames, an elderly Ratman quickly gathered his wares. These were his collections from over the years—precious antiques and worthless bone fragments alike. Before the end arrived, he felt he had to leave something behind.
But when the fire and chaos struck together, both the antiques and the bone fragments became mere wreckage in the roaring inferno. Senseless demons trampled over the flames, and soon, nothing remained.
The Ratman froze, staring at the empty space before him. After a long time, he pulled back the hood that concealed his face.
It was impossible to tell what that ugly rat-face was thinking. Firelight was reflected in his pitch-black pupils, but it wasn't the firelight of the present. It was as if, hundreds of years ago, the entire Ratman race had been turned to ash in a similar blaze.
Then the images shifted, becoming even more ancient, even more terrifying.
A more horrific shadow was howling. Infinite madness and chaos destroyed all order. Towers fell, the sun vanished, the sky turned dark and lightless, and all things wailed in grief. A terrifying existence descended from the heavens, smashing everything they had long believed in to pieces.
It seemed that it wasn't just these pathetic souls that were reincarnating.
Even the disaster itself was a cycle.
"Has it really come to this again? Divine Will... have you truly forgotten the most important things?"
The elderly Ratman slowly sank to his knees, whispering with a tremor:
"Who else can stop you? Who else..."
*
Upon the original Obsidian Throne, the feather-robed skeleton sat enthroned.
Countless chaotic lines condensed and swirled above "her" head, eventually weaving into a perfect circle. Innumerable blood-red chains connected to this circle—which seemed forged from the very laws of the world—intertwining to form a Crown of Thorns.
Deep within the earth, the high platform that had consumed a thousand years of the Demon Race's effort was finally complete. Profound runes lit up with brilliant radiance. Demons knelt on the ground, faces streaked with tears as they praised the miracle about to be born.
Using the souls of the demons as fuel and the ancient magic left behind as the foundation; the flesh, the soul, the throne, the crown... a millennium of plotting and waiting, everything was now ready.
When the Eternal Cycle restarts once more, the flesh shall be revived, the soul shall return, and life and death shall be reversed. Even if abandoned by the gods, a miracle equivalent to a deity itself can still be forged!
"Look! What magnificent power! The entire Demon Race cheers for the return of our King!"
Divine Will’s face was fanatical, his eyes seemingly ablaze. After a span as long as a thousand years, he could finally make her reappear in the world, to once again become his... and the entire Demon Race's leader.
A thousand years ago, in her kindness, she was unwilling to be King, and so she was miserably killed by the malice of this world. But today, a thousand years later, she will become the true Demon King, carrying wrath and hatred to return every ounce of the pain she once suffered!
Yes, he understood. This wrath, accumulated over a thousand years, burned in his own chest as well—a roaring, raging fire!
"Do you understand now, Miss An... This should be the last time I address you by that name."
Divine Will calmed down in an instant, looking at the figure on the throne who was still constantly struggling. "Give up. I know you are still unwilling to discard your current identity, but you should soon feel joy. This joy of rebirth—as a part of her, you will surely feel it vividly."
"Shut up, I—"
"Are you still deluding yourself into thinking that Muen Campbell can save you? Don't be naive. Having seen all this, you should understand by now... this level of power is simply not something a brat like Muen Campbell can touch."
"..."
An’s angry expression froze, a flicker of confusion appearing in her eyes.
Yes, even if she trusted her Young Master unconditionally, she had seen the transformation of the entire Demon Race. She had seen the slaughter on the front lines, the high platform engraved with ancient runes, and the countless chains extending to bring in innumerable souls.
Divine Will had launched a war that affected the entire Empire and even the situation of the whole continent, all just to obtain enough souls in a short period of time.
Even thinking rationally, even without those things, the Grand Duke of Divine Will before her... was a mountain that the current Young Master could never hope to cross.
She believed there would come a time when the Young Master’s strength would surpass this old bastard, but not now.
Perhaps... it was right that the Young Master shouldn't come back.
Struggling at death's door was something she could do alone; she couldn't drag the Young Master into this.
"It seems you've thought it through."
Divine Will smiled. "Now that the hypocritical Life Church has retreated and those ridiculous rats are all hiding in fear, who else in this Abyss can stop me? Heh, the answer is, of course, no one—"
"Divine Will, you've overstepped."
Under the deathly silent gaze of the sculptures, the flickering candlelight on the walls suddenly sputtered.
The atmosphere fell into an eerie silence.
A wave of coldness swept in from the passage filled with horrific shadows. Divine Will, who had not felt the meaning of the word "cold" for an entire millennium, actually shivered slightly.
He turned his head slowly and heavily, looking toward the other side of this space that no one should have been able to enter.
There, a pink set of strawberry pajamas swayed gently in the air, as if weightless.
"Ah, it's you."
After a long daze, Divine Will whispered as if waking from a dream.
"You actually came."
"You?"
The red-eyed, white-haired immortal loli tilted her head and sneered.
"After nearly a thousand years, have you even discarded the respect you once owed? Brat Divine Will."