Chapter 70

Darkness continued to erode, as if it would completely engulf the ruins.

Sprout 12 exerted all her strength, pouring her will into her tightly clenched hands. The light spot on 237's forehead flickered, as if it might go out at any moment, but each faint flash made the black mist shrink back for a moment.

However, the cracked sky did not close; instead, even more shadows peeked out from the gap. Like wild beasts that had smelled blood, they howled and pounced on the battlefield wreckage, transforming into countless twisted figures.

Sprout12 felt a sudden chill in his heart—their struggles did not stop the calamity, but instead attracted an even larger dark tide.

"...Beadou..."

237's thoughts came again, so weak they were almost inaudible.

"Don't stop...keep going...hold on to me...otherwise...I really won't be able to come back..."

Bean Sprout 12 clenched his teeth, his branches and leaves trembled, and an unprecedented determination appeared in his eyes.

"I will hold you back! Even if it means fighting against all darkness!"

The next moment, a circle of light suddenly exploded in the center of the ruins.

It was neither pure holy light nor utter darkness, but a violent surge resulting from the intertwining of the two.

This force instantly crushed the surrounding shadows, but at the same time it shook Bean 12 so badly that his internal organs churned and he almost collapsed to his knees.

He realized—

237 is unwittingly triggering a second outbreak.

If left unchecked, this ruin, and indeed the entire plain, will be utterly torn apart.

Sprout 12 gritted her teeth and raised her head, her eyes fixed on the broken figure in mid-air.

He only had one choice:

Either let go and watch the world end;

We must either use every last ounce of strength to pull 237 back from the abyss.

The prelude to the storm was reignited amidst its aftershocks.

Seed 237 in mid-air, the cracks widened again, like countless abysses opening up within his body at the same time.

The point of light on his forehead suddenly burst forth one last time, then became entangled with the vortex of shadow. The forces of light and darkness no longer repelled each other, but instead intertwined completely, transforming into an out-of-control torrent that exploded out of his body.

The world can be reversed in an instant.

A beam of blazing white light pierced the dome, illuminating the cracked sky, while darkness poured into every crevice like a tidal wave. Countless surviving shadow creatures vanished in screams, while others were torn apart by the light and shadow into new, grotesque forms.

The entire plain roared and sank, the earth churned into fragments, swept into the sky by the storm of light and darkness, only to shatter again in an instant. The air was filled with fragmented spiritual energy, which fell like rain.

Sprout 12 was thrown far away, his chest almost torn apart, but he still stared intently at the center of the storm.

The original appearance of 237 inside was no longer discernible; only a silhouette of light and shadow remained, like a star about to explode.

"—Enough!!"

Sprout 12 roared, his voice torn apart by the gale. He suddenly released all the protective power within him, transforming it into a barrier between the storm and the ruins.

But the barrier trembled violently under the impact of the torrent of light and darkness, and could break at any moment.

The crack in the sky expanded completely during the second eruption, revealing a massive shadowy outline of the void beyond, as if an invisible eye was watching this world through the crack.

Sprout12 felt a chill in his heart:

This was not just an outbreak of 237, but it completely attracted the attention of "the other side".

The sky roared once more.

The second torrent, like an unstoppable flood, tore open the already broken cracks completely. The narrow wound expanded into a gigantic maw that blotted out the sky, and the black ocean from the depths of nothingness poured down directly into it.

An invisible breath permeated the plains, each exhale causing the earth to tremble and nearly stopping the survivors' hearts.

A massive shadow slowly emerged—not the body of a living being, but a chaotic outline pieced together from countless tentacles, eye sockets, and chains, as if representing an ineffable "other end."

Sprout 12's barrier was instantly crushed, and he was thrown out, rolling in the ruins of blood and dust.

Whispers rang in his ears, not a single voice, but thousands upon thousands of overlapping murmurs:

"...Descending...Sacrifice...Order has crumbled..."

Seed 237, at the center of the storm, had completely dissolved into the interplay of light and darkness. He was no longer an individual, but rather a medium for the rift.

The void around him continued to collapse, and new dark things kept crawling out of the cracks, roaring and rushing towards reality.

At this moment, the remaining armies of the three forces completely lost their formation—some desperately retreated, some were devoured, and some were forced to perish together with the monsters. The battlefield transformed from an encirclement and suppression operation into a chaotic catastrophe.

Sprout 12 struggled to his feet, his chest feeling as if it were about to shatter, yet his eyes remained fixed on the vortex:

If 237 falls completely, this world will be dragged into the abyss.

The dark silhouette in the sky slowly opened dozens of eye sockets, coldly gazing at this shattered plain.

It has fully arrived.

The second outbreak—

It became the key to opening the rift.

The fissure, like a giant maw, completely separated the sky from the earth.

As it fully opened, the first wave of "things from the other side" poured down.

They have no uniform form. Some are like giant towers pieced together from bones, slowly rising after smashing deep pits into the ground; some are like blood-red storms, swirling in the air, engulfing and crushing all living things in their path; and some are just shadows, yet they can parasitize corpses and stones, transforming into new monsters.

The surviving armies of the three sides were completely routed.

Countless screams, roars, and prayers mingled above the ruins, as flames and black mist burned simultaneously, staining the torn sky crimson.

Sprout 12, dragging his injured body, barely managed to erect a barrier, only to watch helplessly as his companions were instantly swallowed by the shadows. His throat seemed to tear as he screamed:

"Back off! Everyone back off! Don't get near the crack!"

But it was too late. The whispers of the rift transformed into invisible chains, binding the soldiers' souls and dragging them into the abyss. Some of these beings didn't even die; instead, in their despair, they transformed, growing bizarre limbs and turning on their comrades with deadly cruelty.

At the eye of the storm, Seed 237 still floats amidst the interplay of light and darkness.

But now he no longer struggles, but remains still as if asleep—yet his presence is continuously providing stability to the rift.

He has become the fulcrum of our arrival.

In the sky, the chaotic giant shadow slowly lowered, and dozens of eye sockets turned in unison, staring at Sprout 12.

The sound exploded directly in his heart:

"...Guardian..."

You will be the next key…

In an instant, countless black mist tentacles descended from the sky, rushing straight towards Sprout 12!

Just as the tentacles were about to engulf him, a burst of blazing white light suddenly erupted from the depths of the ruins—like some hidden power being forced to awaken by the desperate situation.

A burst of blazing white light erupted from the ruins, cleaving through the pressing black mist tendrils like a sharp sword.

Sprout 12's body was almost torn apart, but in that instant, a mark deep within his chest suddenly ignited. It wasn't an external force, but rather the "Fragment of the Mother Tree" dormant within him—a remnant core that had unintentionally fused during the initial battle.

The fragments were awakened by the clash of light and darkness, and are now completely engulfed in flames.

His branches split open, oozing dazzling veins of light; blood and radiance intertwined, transforming into a new power surging within him.

He roared in agony, his knees buckling as he pushed himself up and his arms outstretched.

A massive surge of air dispersed the black mist, and platinum-gold tree patterns surrounded it, like ancient runes being reborn from flesh and blood.

In the sky, the enormous gaze suddenly contracted, and dozens of eye sockets trembled simultaneously.

It whispered: "...a spark that shouldn't exist...still remains..."

Sprout 12 was panting, but her eyes were more determined than ever before.

He raised his hand, and all the remaining light scattered in the ruins was attracted and gathered in his palm, transforming into a long blade made of pure light veins.

"You want to take away 237...you want to devour this land..."

His voice was deep, yet it sounded like thunder.

"Then you'll have to step over me first!"

The long blade swung down suddenly, its light piercing the earth and severing the attacking tentacles.

The black mist emitted a piercing shriek, and large swaths of shadow vanished instantly.

For the first time, the whispers of the rift paused.

The colossal entity seemed to realize for the first time that it might have encountered resistance on this devastated plain.

Sprout 12's steps were heavy, yet she walked step by step toward the crack in the air.

With every step, his blood burned; with every step, his soul teetered on the brink of collapse.

But his silhouette, like a lonely flame, raised a flag of resistance in the darkness.

A brief silence fell over the battlefield as all eyes turned to him.

Deep within the rift, darkness surged, as if countless abysses were breathing simultaneously.

As Sprout 12 drew ever closer, the colossal presence finally relinquished its manipulation of whispers and shadows.

It began—it arrived.

The entire sky seemed to crack open like distorted ink, with blinding purplish-black bands of light collapsing from the edges of the fissures. Countless eyeholes fell, turning into a viscous blood mist like rain, eventually coalescing into a colossal figure in the center of the battlefield.

It was the embodiment of the "otherworldly being"—without a fixed form, but a colossal body pieced together from tentacles, eyeballs, and shattered carapace. With each breath, the earth cracked; with each tremor, a corrosive, dark wave surged through the air.

Sprout 12 stopped in his tracks, holding his long blade upright in front of him.

The light surged within his body, yet it trembled violently under the immense pressure, like a flame about to be extinguished at any moment.

The avatar emitted a deep rumble:

"...tiny branches and leaves...daring to stare directly into the abyss..."

Before the words were even finished, its tentacles suddenly fell, carrying a force powerful enough to tear mountains apart.

The air roared, and the ground instantly collapsed, creating a huge circular rift.

Sprout 12 roared, swinging its long blades with both arms, the light transforming into an arc-shaped slash that collided head-on with the tentacles.

At the moment of impact, heaven and earth fell silent.

A shockwave, powerful enough to destroy the entire ruins, erupted, and light and darkness intertwined into a chaotic storm.

Sprout 12's feet sank deep into the ground, blood continuously oozing from the cracks in the branches and leaves, but his eyes grew ever sharper.

"You are not the real body... merely a projection... yet even so—I will shatter you!"

The avatar seemed enraged, its dozens of eye sockets snapping open in unison, emitting a piercing roar. Darkness coalesced into a rain of sharp spears, raining down upon Sprout 12.

He suddenly swept his long blade horizontally, and the burning fragments of the mother tree within his body transformed into a blazing white barrier, shattering the first wave of black spears.

However, after the impact, his chest was charred and cracked, and his breathing was so rapid that he seemed about to collapse at any moment.

In the midst of this vortex of blood and light, Sprout 12 struggled to lift his gaze, staring at the enormous shadow hanging from the crack.

This is the first real head-on collision.

Who will survive remains unknown.