Chapter 1183. You Would Have to Kill Every Woman Who’s Ever Become Mine

Chapter 1183: 1183. You Would Have to Kill Every Woman Who’s Ever Become Mine

The strike that followed was not a move; it was an execution.

Apollo did not merely wind up. He began to draw the entirety of the open channel—the raw, unfiltered power of the divine—down into a single, terrifying point at the center of his fist.

The light that gathered there ceased to resemble anything Life affinity had ever produced. It was no longer warm; it was no longer healing.

It condensed into a sphere of such impossible brightness that it bleached the world. The ruined expanse of the domain was suddenly bathed in a hard, colorless glare that turned the violet floor into a sheet of blinding white.

He held it for perhaps a second and a half. That second and a half felt like an eternity of approaching doom.

The sheer pressure of the gathering energy made the fractured surface beneath them scream in protest, a high-pitched, metallic grinding sound as cracks raced outward from beneath Apollo’s own feet, as though the very foundation of reality were trying to retreat from what he was about to unleash.

Then, with a roar that sounded like the death of a star, Apollo drove that point of condensed annihilation straight into the center of Rex’s chest.

BOOOOOOOM!!!!

The impact did not simply hurt him. It did not merely break him, but it went through him.

The blast tore outward from the point of contact in a devastating spherical wave of pure force. The shockwave flattened everything within thirty meters, shredding through the remaining intact sections of the domain floor like tissue paper.

Fault lines screamed across the landscape, racing toward the edges of a space that had never truly possessed proper boundaries. Somewhere in the distance, unseen by either combatant, an entire quadrant of the domain simply... ceased to exist.

It winked out of reality, the structural integrity finally collapsing under a pressure it had never been built to withstand.

Rex’s body acted as the lightning rod for this cosmic fury. He absorbed the full, unmitigated force directly into his sternum.

For one genuinely uncertain moment, something inside Rex that had never once stopped working the fundamental rhythm of his existence simply stopped.

His heart did not beat.

The world went silent. The screams of the breaking floor, the roaring of Apollo’s power, and the blood rushing in his ears—all of it vanished into a terrifying, absolute vacuum.

His heart sat there, motionless, silent, for nearly three full seconds. In that void, [INFINITE REGENERATION] fought a war against damage on a scale it had never been asked to repair in a single instant.

It was a desperate, microscopic struggle to stitch together atoms that had been scattered by divine force.

Those three seconds were, without exaggeration, the closest thing to actual death Rex had experienced since the fall from that balcony that had ended his first life.

There was no thought in them. There was no pain, no anger, no fear, just a black, hollow interval where Rex Rexilion ceased to be.

Then, the interval ended.

THUMP THUMP.

His heart restarted with such violent, uncontrolled force that it arched his entire ruined body off the crater floor. It was not a gentle revival; it was a resurrection that felt like being struck by lightning from the inside out.

The sudden rush of blood through shattered vessels and torn arteries was a new kind of agony, a searing, electrical torment that made the previous beating feel like a mercy. Rex’s back convulsed, his spine cracking as his body fought to reassert its own existence against the void.

Rex’s eyes snapped open again. When they did, they opened into a body that was, by any reasonable measure of biology, complete wreckage.

His chest cavity looked like something that had been put through an industrial shredder; the skin was charred in places, torn open in others, revealing the wet, grinding machinery of his ribs attempting to fuse back together.

Apollo stood over him, his chest heaving in ragged, desperate gasps. The last of the open divine channel was guttering out of him now, flickering like a candle drowning in its own wax after that catastrophic expenditure of power.

He stared down at Rex’s sternum, the place that had just, for three excruciating seconds, been a motionless tomb. His eyes widened as he watched the flesh twitch, saw the blood pulse once more through the shattered vessels, and witnessed the impossible: the chest began to rise and fall again.

"How..." Apollo whispered, the word cracking.

His hands were shaking, the divine glow fading to reveal fingers stained with Rex’s blood. "How are you still alive? That should have been enough to kill a god..."

"That should have erased your very soul from existence."

Rex pushed himself up onto one elbow. The movement was agonizingly slow.

Each motion produced a wet, grinding sound, SKRITCH CRUNCH, as his vertebrae realigned themselves mid-movement. His body was knitting itself back together in desperate, uneven fits and starts, the regeneration struggling to prioritize wounds that were simply too extensive to be solved in a single heartbeat.

When he finally spoke, his voice was a wrecked, gravelly rasp, but the calm beneath it remained infuriatingly, maliciously the same calm it had been from the moment they first drew blood.

"I told you already," Rex said, blood frothing at the corner of his mouth. "You can’t kill me that way, Apollo..."

"No matter how much power you bring to bear... No matter how many stars you throw at me..."

"WHY?" Apollo screamed.

The sound wasn’t human; it was a primal howl of frustration that tore through the remaining air. The sheer volume of his agony cracked something in the fabric of the domain itself. KRA KOOM and fresh spiderweb fractures raced outward from where he stood, spidering across the reality they occupied.

"Why can nothing kill you?! Are you some kind of monster? Are you actually immortal?!"

Rex looked up at him. In that moment, something in his expression shifted. The mocking edge, the playful cruelty, fell away, replaced by a colder, more calculating stillness.

It was the look of a man weighing whether to hand over a truth and deciding that the revelation would be more devastating than any physical blow Apollo had left in him.

There was a perverse pleasure in the calculation, a recognition that this truth would do more damage to Apollo’s sanity than any fist could ever manage.

"No," Rex said softly, his eyes locking onto Apollo’s crimson gaze. "I’m not immortal in the way your simplistic mind is imagining."

"But to actually kill me, Apollo... you can’t simply destroy this body."

"This flesh is just... scaffolding."

He paused, letting the implication hang in the air like poisonous smoke, savoring the way Apollo’s expression began to fracture into confusion and horror.

"You would have to kill every woman who has ever become mine," Rex continued, his voice growing steadier, more resonant despite the blood thick in his throat. "Every maximum bond I hold is a tether."

"Every soul I have claimed is a pillar that supports this existence."

"They are the fuel for my regeneration... They are the reason I cannot die..."

Rex took a breath, each one a wet rattle, and began to recite them like a litany of sins.

"Talyra... Aisella... Nerith... Mireya... Mara... Marceline... Lily... Diana... Elizabeth... Elaris... Aurelia... Iris... Morwenna... Cassandra... Gorvasha... Viscaria... Lilith... and more..."