Chapter 295: The Collapse of the Abyss

Chapter 295: Chapter 295: The Collapse of the Abyss

"Bang—!"

Dust billowed into the air.

The Abyssal Saint Monarch had fallen.

He did not even have time to register an expression, nor did he have time to let out a scream of sheer terror.

There were no cries of agony, no struggles. On that pale face, the final, maniacal smile still lingered, yet his pupils had already completely glazed over.

The Abyssal Saint Monarch—that First-Rank God who had ruled the Abyssal Plane for countless ages and struck fear into the hearts of countless minor worlds—had just been instantly crushed to death by a single strike from Jiang Bai’s Dragon Claw.

The speed of the process and the utter finality of the outcome were—much like a girlfriend (or boyfriend) dumping you—so clean and decisive that it was positively chilling.

"Clang!"

The Heavenly Saint Abyssal-Rending Halberd—that ultimate divine artifact shimmering with a deep, dark luster, the very symbol of the Abyssal Saint Monarch’s authority and power—having lost its master’s control, plummeted straight down to smash against the hard, cracked black rock of the ground.

As the halberd shaft struck the earth, it sent up a shower of dark-violet sparks before coming to rest in silence, lying there like a cold, abandoned hunk of iron.

With a wave of his hand, Jiang Bai summoned the Heavenly Saint Abyssal-Rending Halberd into his grasp.

It felt heavy in his hand; a cold, violent surge of energy emanated from the shaft, attempting to infiltrate and corrupt his divine consciousness.

Jiang Bai gave a cold snort; with a gentle ripple of his Nine-Colored Divine Light, that energy was instantly and completely suppressed.

He took a moment to examine the ultimate divine artifact.

The shaft was slender and long, while the blade shimmered with eerie, dark-violet patterns—within which, one could faintly discern the flickering images of countless wailing faces.

"Interesting," he murmured softly, before absorbing the Heavenly Saint Abyssal-Rending Halberd into his body.

An ultimate divine artifact—such things were truly rare commodities these days. Even if he might not have a direct use for it himself, it never hurt to keep one around.

With that, Jiang Bai strode deeper into the heart of the Abyss.

The host of Gods followed close behind him, passing through the crumbling palace ruins and weaving past the dissipating piles of black bones, until they arrived before a vast, self-contained spatial realm. This space was vaster than any individual layer of the Abyss. It hung suspended in mid-air, surrounded by an endless void—a realm devoid of up, down, left, or right; nothing remained but a stretch of dim, disorienting chaos.

An unimaginably dense Abyssal energy permeated the air here—viscous as liquid darkness, exuding an aura that was both suffocating and maddening.

This energy surged and writhed through the atmosphere like a living entity, emitting a faint, subtle hissing sound.

This was the very source of the Abyss—the fundamental origin that enabled all Abyssal life forms to resurrect countless times over.

At the center of this space, a colossal sphere hung in silent suspension.

The sphere measured roughly a hundred meters in diameter; its surface was not solid, but rather flowed sluggishly like liquid darkness, radiating a gloom so profound that it seemed capable of devouring every shred of light.

From time to time, grotesque, phantom-like faces would bulge forth from the sphere’s surface—faces twisted in agony, silently wailing in torment. Some were humanoid, others bestial, while others still assumed bizarre forms utterly beyond linguistic description.

These faces were fleeting; no sooner had one appeared than it vanished, instantly replaced by yet another wailing visage.

They parted their mouths in silence—as if screaming, as if hurling curses—yet produced not a single sound. That voiceless despair was far more heart-shuddering than any audible shriek.

The entire sphere resembled a colossal tumor—slowly breathing, ceaselessly digesting an endless influx of death and malevolence!

A vast, chaotic, and frigid consciousness permeated the entire space.

It was not the mind of any specific creature, but rather the collective consciousness of the Abyssal Plane itself—a chaotic will forged from the convergence of countless Abyssal creatures’ malice, predatory instincts, and insatiable lust for expansion.

It possessed no concrete thoughts or emotions—only the most primal, most savage instincts to devour and to expand.

Upon witnessing this scene, a wave of nausea rose involuntarily within the hearts of the assembled Gods.

"How can such a thing possibly exist in this world?" Shui Bing’er murmured, her grip tightening ever so slightly around the Trident of the Sea God. She could sense the chaotic consciousness attempting to erode her divine will, yet her own divine power—the power of the Sea God—held it firmly at bay. Qian Renxue furrowed her brows; her angel wings—woven from threads of gold and black—fluttered gently, as the power of Light circulated around her, dispelling the dark energies that attempted to draw near.

The Old Sea God stood at the very rear, arms crossed over his chest, gazing at the colossal sphere with a flicker of revulsion in his eyes. He had lived for countless millennia and had witnessed his fair share of repulsive things, yet this "Abyssal Core" could undoubtedly rank among the top three.

The Goddess of Life’s frown deepened.

As the custodian of the very essence of life, she harbored benevolence toward all living things.

But this "thing" before her—could it truly be classified as life?

It was nothing more than a mass of pure, chaotic, all-consuming desire.

It possessed no soul, no emotions—only instinct. Its very existence was a blasphemy against life itself.

The Abyssal Core continued to writhe incessantly. The protruding faces upon its surface grew ever denser, and the wailing phantoms became increasingly distinct.

The souls of all deceased abyssal creatures eventually returned here; then, nourished by the boundless energy of the Abyss and tempered by the passage of time, they would be resurrected anew.

Observing the surging abyssal energy around them and the writhing of the Core itself, the assembled Gods surmised that the Abyssal Core had begun the process of resurrecting the fallen abyssal creatures.

With a furrowed brow, the Goddess of Life turned to Jiang Bai and spoke: "Dragon God, let us act! The universe has no need for the existence of such evil and repulsive creatures!"

The Goddess of Life—typically as gentle and placid as flowing water—rarely uttered words of such decisive finality. Her voice remained gentle, yet beneath that gentleness lay an unshakable resolve that brooked no argument.

Jiang Bai nodded.

He took a step forward and raised his right hand.

Nine-colored divine power converged within his palm; like a torrent of multicolored rivers, it surged forth from his body, washing over the colossal sphere before them.

The radiance was dazzling and sacred, standing in stark contrast to the tenebrous gloom of the Abyssal Core.

"Ohm—"

The Abyssal Core emitted a low, resonant hum—the sound of a wounded beast.

Its surface began to churn violently; the wailing faces contorted into expressions of even greater hideousness and agony.

Jiang Bai closed his eyes, immersing his consciousness deep within the flow of his divine power. He began to extract the primordial power from the Core of the Abyss.

Surging nine-colored divine power transformed into a massive, invisible hand; it reached deep into the heart of the Abyssal Core, seized the pure primordial energy within, and began to drag it out, bit by bit.

Wails of anguish began to emanate from within the Core—not as audible sounds, but as cries on the level of pure consciousness, piercing directly into the minds of every God present.

Those wails were saturated with pain, rage, and despair—as if countless living beings were screaming in unison.

Abyssal creatures that had only just begun to reform within the Core were torn apart by that irresistible force before they could even fully take shape; they dissolved into streams of pure primordial energy that flowed outward from the Core.

The primordial energy glowed a deep, inky green, radiating an eerie, unearthly light.

It surged forth from the Abyssal Core like blood gushing from a wound, swirling and coalescing in the air until it finally condensed into a luminous orb roughly the size of a human head.

The orb radiated a profound, dark-green glow, within which countless stars seemed to shimmer and twinkle.

This was the primordial power that the Abyssal Plane had accumulated over countless eons—the very foundation of its existence.

Jiang Bai continued to extract it.

The light emanating from the Abyssal Core grew increasingly dim, and the wailing faces flickering within it became ever more indistinct.

Its rhythmic throbbing slowed; its movements grew fainter and more feeble—like a dying patient making their final, desperate struggle.

Finally, the very last trace of primordial energy was drawn away.

Not a single drop of energy remained to flow from the Abyssal Core. It had transformed into a lifeless, ash-gray sphere—its surface riddled with cracks, resembling an eggshell on the verge of shattering.

Jiang Bai absorbed the condensed orb of primordial energy into his body, then raised his other hand.

The nine-colored dragon claw manifested once more.

With a mighty downward strike—!

"BOOM—!!!"

The Abyssal Core shattered completely!

Countless fragments scattered in all directions, dissolving into specks of light within the void before vanishing into nothingness.

"Let’s go!"

With a wave of his hand, Jiang Bai enveloped the assembled Gods in a shroud of nine-colored divine light. The fabric of space rippled and wavered, and the figures of the gods vanished from the uppermost layer of the Abyss.

...

The Cosmic Void. The figures of the gods materialized out of thin air.

They hovered in the void, surrounded by endless darkness and the faint glimmer of distant stars.

Below them lay the Abyssal Plane—a realm that had once struck terror into countless worlds.

At this very moment, the Abyss was collapsing.

The chains of law that sustained the entire Abyssal world were snapping inch by inch, emitting sharp, brittle cracks. It was a rupture on the fundamental level of reality; yet, to the ears of the gods, it sounded like the thunderous roar of a storm.

The black sky shattered and fell like a broken mirror; great shards of dark-violet firmament plummeted from the heights, dissolving into nothingness as they plunged through the void.

The earth tore open, revealing bottomless chasms. The black rocks, the viscous moss, and the pools of pus-green water—everything tumbled into the rifts and vanished without a trace.

The entire Abyssal Plane—much like a colossal edifice in the throes of collapse—disintegrated layer by layer, from top to bottom.

All 108 layers—each one was shattering, each one was fading away.

Finally, the boundless void that had cradled the Abyssal Plane, now stripped of all its structural support, let out one last, muffled roar—a sound akin to a dying sigh.

Enjoyed the action? Drop a review, fire off a comment, and send those Power Stones rolling! Your support keeps the updates coming fast—let’s keep the momentum going! 🔥