Chapter 77

The light at the end of the crack grew increasingly blinding, as if the whole world was rejecting his return.

The void pressed down on him relentlessly, and the giant eye opened its layered pupils, attempting to engulf him at the last moment.

"roll."

237 uttered a single word in a low voice, and blazing white and dark flames exploded around him simultaneously, condensing into a piercing slash that tore through nothingness.

—Click!

The void shattered like glass, and he transformed into a shooting star, falling from the top of the rift into the real battlefield.

The sky suddenly split open.

A trail of light and darkness pierced through the thunderclouds from high above and plunged straight into the center of the plain.

The avatar is wildly sweeping through Sprout 12 with countless tentacles, and the next blow is about to land.

—In that very instant.

Boom!

A magnificent shockwave descended from the sky, shattering the tentacles. The shockwave swept across the surrounding area, and the black flames exploded into a rain of fire.

Before the dust had settled, a figure slowly stepped out.

Cracks covered his body, yet his steps were steady.

The light on his forehead burned brightly, like a second sun.

Sprout 12 looked up, and his pupils suddenly contracted:

"You're back."

237 did not answer, but simply extended his palm.

Sprout 12 paused for a moment, then raised his sword and stood alongside him.

The forces of both sides converged once again like two mighty currents—but this time, it was no longer a struggle, but an active, stable, and resonant exchange.

The roots left by the lingering shadow of the mother tree lit up again beneath their feet, as if in response to their reunion.

The dying warriors in the distance saw the two figures standing side by side, and the flames that had been dying within them were rekindled. The avatar let out a deafening roar, its anger sweeping across like thunder.

—This third outbreak has finally truly arrived.

Black flames were still seeping from the avatar's chest, and the laceration that had been cut open was writhing and healing in a twisted way.

Its countless eye sockets contracted simultaneously, revealing an emotion never before shown—a mixture of fear and anger.

"...The spark...the source of blasphemy...must be annihilated—!!!"

It finally spiraled out of control completely.

The earth suddenly collapsed, and the incarnation no longer maintained its humanoid form, but transformed into a huge, pitch-black spiral.

Countless eye sockets wriggled on its surface, and tentacles and spear rain merged completely into orbital black flame arms, sweeping in all directions at a frenzied pace.

The entire battlefield was compressed into a vortex-like domain, where time and air trembled, and even sound was torn apart.

"It strengthens the gravitational field!"

Sprout 12 gritted its teeth and forced open the Tree Blade Shield, its branches and leaves shattering inch by inch.

"Then—"

237 raised his hand, and the spot of light on his forehead instantly expanded, exploding like a starburst.

"—Sever the force field completely."

Boom!!

He took a sudden step forward, and the veins beneath his feet suddenly glowed brightly. White-gold patterns extended like lightning, wrapping around his arms and the long blade of Sprout 12.

The two became inseparable, their powers flowing in perfect unison.

The tree blades extended into giant wings of light, with dark flames tearing sharp black edges from the wing blades.

The spiraling arms of black flame swept across like a planetary storm.

"superior."

237 uttered only one word.

The two of them simultaneously shouldered the massive blade of light and darkness, and against the storm, they forcefully slashed into the depths of the vortex!

Boom! ...

The first spiral arm was shattered.

The second stage disintegrated into countless black flames and dust.

The third stage involves a reverse explosion that returns the substance to the body.

The body convulsed violently, all its eye sockets spewing out unbalanced light, and the structure of the domain instantly became disordered.

The heart of the storm is cracking open ahead.

That was the true core of the incarnation—a jet-black, flawed spherical heart, within which countless remnants of world memories churned violently and distorted.

Bean Sprout 12 gripped the blade handle tightly and whispered:

"This time—we'll do it together."

237 nodded, his forehead radiating light like the rising sun:

"Slash!" The oath fell almost simultaneously with the giant blade.

In that instant, time stood still on the battlefield.

There was no sound, no storm, and even the black flames seemed frozen in mid-air.

—Only a dazzling blade mark fell straight down from the heavens and earth.

It had no flashy spread, no exploding sky, just a single, pure slash.

The sharp edge, woven from light and darkness, cleaved through the spiral storm without hindrance, pierced through the tentacles, shattered all the protective shells, and landed directly on the pitch-black core of the avatar.

—Click.

The sound was so soft it was almost an illusion.

Then--

The whole world exploded.

The core shattered like a mirror, cracks spreading like a spider web, before it completely disintegrated.

Countless black fragments tumbled in the air, but spontaneously combusted the moment they touched the air, turning into incandescent white dust, as if they had never existed.

The domain collapsed, and the vortex disintegrated.

The canopy of the sky was drawn back open, and light poured down, like a long-lost breath being drawn back into the earth.

The black flame storm has subsided.

The tentacles turned to ashes.

Its enormous form drooped helplessly in mid-air before collapsing into mist and drifting away with the wind.

—It died.

The true embodiment of the other side of the rift was utterly annihilated on the battlefield of reality for the first time.

The giant blade dissipated, and 237 and Sprout 12 knelt on the shattered ground, their shoulders heaving, embers still burning in their chests.

There was no cheering, no sound.

Even the survivors had forgotten how to make a sound, and just stared blankly at everything in front of them.

It was as if they still couldn't believe it—

That invincible thing was truly reduced to ashes by them.

Just when everyone thought the battle was over.

In the deepest part of the sky, the crack still remains, slowly writhing.

A deeper shadow is opening its eyes behind the scenes, overlooking this battlefield.

That gaze was cold and ancient.

It was as if it were whispering:

"...Well done..."

"And next—"

"It's our turn."

Before the light could fully illuminate the earth, the sky was torn open again by a silent crack.

It's not the pitch-black crack from before.

— Rather, it is a vertical chasm leading to a "deeper shore".

The crack had no color or shape, as if even reality itself refused to acknowledge its existence.

It was simply there, and all things trembled instinctively.

The hope that everyone had just raised was frozen again.

Sprouts 12 and 237 struggled to lift their heads, their backs feeling cold.

Because they clearly saw:

The "avatar" they had previously shattered—

It's not "the real thing" at all.

It was nothing more than a spore left behind on the border, a fragment of consciousness.

The Lord of the Other Shore is descending in person.

A giant pupil emerged from the depths of the crack.

It has no whites in its eyes, no pupils, just pitch black, yet it can instantly drag everyone's consciousness into an abyss.

The countless corpses on the ground trembled slightly under that gaze, their bones cracking as if they were awakening anew.

The wind stopped.

The bleeding stopped.

Even the flames stopped flickering.

Everything lost its momentum, as if the world had been frozen in time by that pupil.

Then, it spoke.

It wasn't a roar.

It's not a threat.

Instead, it was a tentative, light laugh.

"……interesting."

"...Those frail branches...were able to sever my 'outer skin'..."

The sound had no echo, yet it exploded simultaneously in everyone's mind.

Some people fainted on the spot, while others screamed but could not make a sound.

Only 237 and Bean Sprout 12 managed to stay upright.

The voice continued:

"...Then I will reward you—"

"—The qualification to personally experience the 'abyss'."

The words fell.

A "shadow" fell from the sky.

Its form cannot be described with adjectives—because everyone who looks at it sees a different nightmare.

Some people saw the spine stretching infinitely;

Some people saw countless faces squeezed out of flesh and blood;

Someone saw their future corpse.

The shadow slowly descended to the ground, its oppressive force like an ancient mountain.

The earth began to sink.

The air began to break apart.

Reality began to "yield".