Cursed Immortality

Chapter 1136: The Mantis stalks the Cicada! (4)

After Destin Saint cast the Inevitability of Fulfillment, the oppressive might of Immortal Nimrod’s Void Law collapsed instantly as though meeting its natural bane.

The suffocating tyranny that had merged the boundary with the Abyssal Void dispersed like a nightmare jarred out of existence.

The vast void-eye that appeared as if swollen across horizons was now shrunk back to the edge of the boundary between Shadow Expanse and Abyssal Void.

It hovered there again, infinitely close yet impossibly distant, like something that should not exist outside its own realm, and beneath that colossal eye, Immortal Nimrod’s avatar reformed, the figure that had previously seemed one with the void.

For a heartbeat, his flames froze, and thereafter, "This slave can use Arcane Law!?"

The space trembled from the shock in his voice, but beneath the outward fury lurked something darker... abhorrence, and a hint of fear, because Immortal Nimrod knew this single act of Destin Saint had changed everything, and his sharp sting of calculation had gone horribly wrong.

At that moment, the Void quaked around him with malevolent static, reflecting his unhidden and day-like disbelief.

However, on the other hand, Destin Saint appeared utterly tranquil without even a fluctuation of any intent, as if everything was predetermined now.

His form, even in its tiny, ethereal state within the Fateless Celestial, radiated a quiet overbearance, as though inevitability itself had chosen him to speak, and his reply held the weight of contempt.

"Hoh... Arcane Law?" His tone suggested that he ridiculed the very idea, "That wasn’t the Arcane Law, but merely something I’ve personally created based on Arcane Law, not worth mentioning. Well, I guess this is to be expected, since you couldn’t use your Arcane Law, or perhaps you were abandoned by it? Right?"

Those words struck Immortal Nimrod like a stake through the chest, and instantly...

"Arcane Law or not, you still can’t escape from me, nor can you beat me! If you have so much confidence in your arcane law, why have you been hiding in your turtle shell all this time?!" His roar tore through the boundary, shaking space like a storm of rabid comets.

However, beneath that rage was his inner world, which churned frantically like a machine of ancient schemes suddenly clogged with fear, and his inner thoughts were like an inferno...raging!

’Why is this bastard suddenly so difficult to deal with!? That slave never showed even a fraction of these abilities before, whenever it would meddle with the Void. Why now of all the time!? WHY!?’

The calculations in Immortal Nimrod’s mind accelerated at an inhuman pace, unraveling and reforming.

’That ability was definitely his Arcane Law! Which means he’s bluffing, trying to shake me and cloud my judgment. Furthermore, even if he can invoke his Arcane Law through that slave, he shouldn’t be able to cast another on that scale...unless... unless this was just a smokescreen, and he’s preparing something worse!’

A sick realization crawled up his spine as he really wanted to flay Destin Saint because of the disguising schemes that always made him feel like countless insects were crawling in his very veins.

’Damn him. If only I could use ’it’!’ The thought burned like acid.

However, he didn’t dwell on what was impossible, and another cold, sharp calculation surfaced at that moment...

’No. My target is the Cursed One. I should’ve moved first...should’ve grabbed him instead of trading words with this damn nuisance.’

Immortal Nimrod’s mind finally cleared as he finally gave up on teaching Destin Saint a lesson because things were going south from the moment Destin Saint had appeared.

At that moment, a darker scheme flashed through his mind, and the only way to overcome this stagnant situation...

’If I force this slave to the brink of destruction, the Cursed One will be expelled. Destin Saint won’t sacrifice him since he wants him alive. If I corner him, he might choose to kill the Cursed One himself... and that is enough. All I need is that ’heart’...’

But his spiraling thoughts shattered the moment Destin Saint spoke again, and his voice was calm, yet profound enough to stiffen the Void.

"Hoho, I never confronted you because I wasn’t sure about your true prowess, and you’ve always done well to hide it. However, not anymore..."

A profound, arcane aura erupted from Destin Saint, seemingly ethereal, ancient, and terrifyingly pristine, as arcane runes suddenly came to life and flickered around him.

The subtle hyperboloid behind him suddenly collapsed behind his silhouette as if Fates tried to realign themselves, only to be crushed again beneath the weight of something higher.

Seeing this, the Void-eye convulsed violently as a tremor of genuine dread seeped out of Immortal Nimrod because he recognized the intent behind that aura, and he knew that he had to stop it.

"Don’t you dare, voidless—"

However, just as his words left his lips, they died, and what followed was utter silence, making the void-eye quiver in disbelief.

At that moment, from behind Destin Saint, the phantom of hyperboloid appeared again, but this time it was vast, luminescent, and transcendent!

A hyperboloid silhouette of Fate, warping geometry and time as light flowed from it like threads of destiny, and wherever that light touched, even the Void retreated.

The phantom rotated, each rotation rearranging countless unseen destinies, and thereafter, Destin Saint’s voice spilled into existence—grand, absolute, and resonating through both space and Void.

"Since I got what I wanted, I’ll let you experience my true Arcane Law. But it’s a pity that you won’t be able to remember it..." His tone held a weight reminiscent of a prophecy already completed, like a sovereign decree of Fate.

The very next moment, Destin Saint spoke as if truth carved into inevitability:

"Within the Myriad Destinies, nothing escapes its ordained conclusion. Fate governs all cycles, yet Fate itself does not end for it simply waits for you to reach what was always yours."

At that moment, his aura shifted, smooth, seamless, and flawless as the intent vanished, yet paradoxically became absolute.

The air stilled, and the Void recoiled while Destin Saint’s voice transcended into something divine and arcane...

"The Winter of Past!"