Volume One: The Hidden Dragon in the Abyss Chapter 58: A Turn of Events

At the very moment his long howl pierced the air, all the power within him surged forth as if tearing itself from his body. The Demon God and the Monster Saint felt an overwhelming force burst out, drawing both of their sacred artifacts irresistibly toward him. Vaguely, one could see Wang Chuan himself forming the heart of a black vortex, a swirling abyss into which even the other Demon God was pulled.

They were drawn in without the slightest resistance—or so it seemed. In truth, they could easily have broken free, though none could fathom Wang Chuan’s current state. It was as if he were imitating the ancient Rite of the Void Saint, sacrificing himself to the heavens and forging his path to the Grand Dao. Yet Wang Chuan’s sacrifice was of himself; he was communing with the ancient sages and now devouring all power that existed.

The very forces of heaven and earth were being sucked into him, hastening the world’s destruction. From every direction, across the ten realms, emptiness rapidly expanded; soon, this place would be swept away by a storm, returning all to utter silence and void.

It was as if everything would revert to the very beginning. Yet with the emergence of this ancient Demon God’s ruined abode, some had gained, others had lost—such was fate. What could they do but relinquish their sacred treasures? Wang Chuan was utterly mad, deranged beyond compare—far more so than any of their own kind. He always seemed to possess the most bizarre and unfathomable means. Even above the divine realm, none had ever witnessed such a thing—offering up one’s self as a sacrifice, its final outcome unknown even to Wang Chuan himself. It was total recklessness.

“Break!” the Monster Saint cried, making his decision. He unleashed his sacred relic, pouring all his might into a single, devastating attack. The force seemed to pierce the very fabric of heaven and earth, spanning all worlds to land upon Wang Chuan. He spared nothing.

“Don’t forget our purpose! Even if this avatar perishes, it matters not. We can always restore our realm bit by bit!”

“That’s right! At any cost, Wang Chuan must be annihilated!”

The two of them joined forces in a desperate assault. In that instant, the Demon Cauldron was pushed to its utmost, finally breaking free of its chains and hurling itself toward Wang Chuan in a roaring attack. Scorching waves of energy engulfed everything.

The world was shattered and scoured clean. The Void Saint absorbed nine-tenths of the power, but at last, with a sigh, was forced to cease—pity that he had not condensed the Dao to perfection, only waiting for some future moment to complete it.

Wang Chuan had sacrificed himself; in the next instant, an overwhelming force erupted from that spot, obliterating everything beneath a sky-darkening tide. A segment of the Sacred River, two great sacred artifacts, three mighty monster saints and demon gods—all cast themselves into that cataclysmic maelstrom.

Something began to fade into nothingness; space itself split apart. The black hole devoured and erased all, vast storms rising and spreading across the myriad heavens. Even three beings of the highest divine realm could not withstand such force—they could not preserve themselves, but were broken down inch by inch.

This Wang Chuan was no mere mortal.

Such terrifying power was legend, myth itself—enough to dominate the ages. At any cost, Wang Chuan must be destroyed! Only now did they begin to understand why the higher powers had so valued this moment. They had done all they could, sparing no sacrifice—yet still were left with a sense of helplessness. The despair of futility.

“Where is Wang Chuan? Where is he?” one of the demon gods roared in fury. His avatar, tainted by the storm, was rotting and melting away. He could not yet retreat to the Demon Realm, even as he endured agony beyond imagining. But to leave without seeing Wang Chuan would be intolerable! Even in death, there would be no peace!

The others felt the same. Drifting in the void, they shielded themselves, suffering immense loss—yet it mattered little now. They would pay any price.

The Void Saint, too, was curious, perhaps even more concerned about Wang Chuan’s fate. He gazed into the storm’s heart, where a holy radiance flickered, grinding away all power from every corner of the ten realms.

“Wang Chuan, Wang Chuan… a step toward divinity, a step toward demonhood, a step to sainthood, a step to mortality, a step to heaven. But which path have you chosen?” The Void Saint stared at that spot, releasing his soul and true essence again and again in search, but could not find Wang Chuan. Every trace of Wang Chuan’s presence seemed utterly erased.

Yet the Void Saint’s face betrayed no joy or sorrow—only a wicked, triumphant smile. Whatever happened, the impact on him was immense; his heart surged, but his face remained calm, as if it were no concern of his. Yet, he could not ignore it. Search after search—still, he cared most for Wang Chuan’s fate.

He strained to recall what Wang Chuan had done at the very last moment. The Monster Saint’s heart quivered, though he wore a savage grin. “That one must be finished. Such overwhelming force—my own sacred artifact is lost, as are your Sacred River and Demon Cauldron.”

But when he tried to divine the future, it was hazy and obscure. For one of his level—even if this avatar was about to be annihilated—his ability to divine the Dao should not have been affected. His kind excelled at such arts. Yet now, even he could not sense Wang Chuan’s existence.

Could it be that within all the myriad worlds, within the Dao itself, Wang Chuan was truly gone? Had they, together, utterly erased him? If so, it was a good thing.

The two demon gods would have liked to believe it, but unease gnawed at them. It should not have been so. Even with their power, the Dao should have persisted. Even if a mere mortal were erased, their essence would return to the Dao. The Dao is ever-renewing, never ceasing. All the myriad races cultivate by seeking the Dao.

But why had Wang Chuan’s presence completely disappeared—neither living nor dead, along with their sacred artifacts and the Sacred River?

They wanted to believe the Monster Saint’s words. “Void Saint, the Demon Clan can no longer abide you. You are a genius, though not as unmatched as Wang Chuan. I advise you to submit to me—become my servant, and I will grant you a share of my clan’s divine powers, helping you to reach the pinnacle all the sooner! Otherwise, a miserable fate awaits you.” The Monster Saint turned to the Void Saint, extending an olive branch.

The two demon gods only sneered, saying nothing more. Their show of strength was mere bluster, hiding weakness; a single finger could have snuffed them out now. Was this only for survival? It mattered little. The Monster Saint did not care what others thought—he spoke now as a Monster Saint, and if the Void Saint understood, he would recognize the regard it implied. All that remained was for Wang Chuan to vanish utterly.

But surely, by now, Wang Chuan could not return—he was gone for good.

“Ants, the so-called divine realm is this feeble? Even your avatars are so weak,” the Void Saint scoffed, dismissing the others. “Even if you reach this realm, what does it matter? The gulf between god and mortal is vast, but even so, what can you do to me?”

“You’re finished! The Monster Clan will not abide you either. Has your cultivation addled your mind? You are as ignorant and arrogant as Wang Chuan,” the Monster Saint spat in anger. “You know as well as I the gulf between god and mortal. I have nearly attained sainthood, reached the summit. Even someone like Wang Chuan, even the ancient sages—what do they know of this realm’s power? Do you think he could simply reincarnate and regain his former strength? Impossible! If that were so, countless beings above the divine realm would have reincarnated endlessly over the ages and surpassed their past selves time and again. Impossible! Do not even think it. Why do saints reincarnate? Not because their lifespan ends, but because their sacred bodies are destroyed! You flatter them, call them ancient sages, raise them high—but to us, they are objects of contempt, a disgrace! Ask those two demon gods how they see it. Why were these reincarnated sages’ bodies destroyed? They are failures! We scorn them, and you should too. This supposed mutual sympathy, in my eyes, is nothing but two failures licking each other’s wounds. What pride is there in that? Perhaps you will never understand what this realm truly is. If our true bodies descended, we could crush you with a finger. Beneath the divine realm, all are as ants, frail and insignificant.”

“Why all this bluster? If that’s the case, why did you go to such lengths to destroy Wang Chuan?” the Void Saint retorted coldly. “We had no enmity, no cause. So what are you so afraid of?”

Even if Wang Chuan was destined for unimaginable greatness, with boundless prospects, there had to be some reason—no one would antagonize two entire clans without cause. Why could they not tolerate him?

Today’s battle would be a stain on both clans’ honor. With a mortal body, he pierced the heavens and earth! What of gods and spirits—he could slay them too!

On hearing the Void Saint’s words, all three frowned. They understood the implications.

“Void Saint, I must admit, Wang Chuan was a variable,” the Monster Saint said thoughtfully. “After today’s battle, I believe it all the more. With one such as him, nothing can be predicted. It’s as if we had ascended the Dao, only to find it suddenly shrouded in mist.”

“Void Saint, this matter is grave—I should not say more. From today, go your own way. You have destroyed your future. The Demon Clan can no longer accept you; throughout the myriad worlds, you will find it hard to rise again,” one demon god said. “You were born under a great destiny, with the potential of a sage and the approval of the Dao itself. If you had cultivated to completion, you would have become the child of destiny, the Son of Heaven, ruling all worlds and commanding the laws with a word.”

It was a pity that such a one had turned against the Demon Clan. Were all such prodigies so arrogant? If he had the clan’s support and resources, who could say how high he might have gone?

“But Wang Chuan was a variable,” the demon god continued, his voice full of dread, even fear—though he would not have flinched from death itself. “You saw it for yourself—his power was beyond imagination. Such a person could not have arisen from the natural order. He was not bound by talent or fate; as a mere mortal, he could stand against saints and gods. One who transcends the laws themselves is terrifying beyond words. He could overturn destiny, free himself from all limitations, and shatter every boundary. Perhaps you, Void Saint, will one day hit your limit—but Wang Chuan would not. We have cultivated for countless years, endured endless tribulations, and finally comprehended the mysteries of heaven and earth, the universe, and the vicissitudes of life. Only then did we achieve the Dao. But Wang Chuan needed none of that—his path was smooth, as if the Dao itself stepped aside for him. Such a monster cannot be tolerated by the heavens! It is said that from the birth to the end of the cosmos, perhaps not one such being might ever arise. One cannot even describe what he is.”

All three shivered with lingering fear.

How could such a fiend exist? Fortunately, he was now erased!

The Void Saint frowned deeply, listening intently and pondering. “And so what? Simply because such a person appeared, blocking the path of many, obstructing your long-sought ascent, you could not tolerate him. That is all, isn’t it?”

So that was the real reason.

How utterly absurd.