Elf World.
The gods continued the chase beyond the trees.
They conjured a grand ship across the sea, peering into the depths below, and discovered Herodotus’s terrifying battle outco, feeling both joy and dread.
It was an army of millions from the Abyss.
He broke through two unprecedented realms, defeating such a fearso quantity alone.
Is it true that the later in life, the more terrifying individual power becos?
However.
No matter how strong, it will be exhausted to death.
Herodotus resembled a swiftly burning candle, always at risk of extinguishing.
"We cannot step forward to aid him." Minis stood before the gods, "Because that power is indiscriminate, and we would beco targets of its strikes."
"Then, we can only be ready to assist at any ti!" One god said.
Though this was said.
Minis’s heart couldn’t help but sink.
Herodotus had no intention of turning back.
He was determined to fight to the very end, to prevent the resurrection of the Demon Emperor, and seize the chance to absorb the wandering souls along the way to sustain his own soul.
He intends to single-handedly flatten the entire Abyss World.
"Damn it!"
Minis’s eyes reddened, his fists clenched tighter.
At the crucial mont for civilization’s survival, yet he could do nothing.
And the greater tornt was that among the geniuses of the era, Atabia and Herodotus surpassed him, reaching heights that were hard to comprehend.
No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t catch up to that receding figure.
A complex emotion of despair and helplessness spread in his heart.
....
Elis quietly hid in a corner at the bottom of the abyss.
He gracefully stretched his spider legs, gazing at the terrifying scene of death on the battlefield, expressionless, "He’s too strong, using the thunderbolt power he obtained from in such a terrifying way."
His emotions were equally complex.
That power had already surpassed the tactical knowledge of ordinary cold weapon warfare, akin to ancient mythological battles where a single person could crush an entire army, leaving others unable to breathe.
"My era has yet to co."
He deeply subrged into the sea, quietly observing everything.
Spiders are creatures adept at patience, silently weaving webs, silently waiting.
...
The deepest layer of the abyss.
Bang.
The eighth layer was soon breached, and news of the Royal Capital’s fall reached them.
It was as if a storm swept through, slaughtering all approaching soldiers. The electromagnetic storm could snipe out the life of an entire city, akin to a god!
"Individual’s power... to such a frightening extent."
"This is a terrifying single unit above hero level!"
"Is this the correct path for civilization? Numbers are a joke, quality is the real answer."
All the upper echelons of the abyss turned slightly pale, the shadow of extinction constantly lood over them.
That terrifying power was unimaginable in their eyes, even so sages attempted calculations, but the disparity in levels was too vast to discern anything.
Talus was anxiously deploying and directing troops, "Continue to block him!"
"Understood!"
"Bone Land, caverns, all begin urgently breeding Abyss Species, at all costs!"
Countless abyss scholars ran about, the ultimate battle for civilization had arrived.
Sylph stood dumbfounded at the imperial seat, beside the closed-eyed Demon Monarch, standing like a handmaiden behind him, ready at any mont.
The aura of this Demon Monarch grew ever stronger.
Almost unbelievably strong.
It’s crucial to understand the imnse difficulty, akin to rewriting the majority of the underlying code for a super complex software.
"Yet, the war truly brings despair."
She took a deep breath, looking at the terrifying and brutal bloody war in the abyss.
At this mont, Susan finally succeeded in transmitting the images in Sylph’s consciousness into her own mind.
"We’ve finally caught up, is this the abyss?" She gazed at this terrifying mythological war for the first ti, feeling a sudden twinge of panic in her heart.
...
Suburbs of Phoenix City.
Outside the gate, inside the courtyard.
Sylph, with a hood covering her elf ears, and Susan sat under a parasol, having afternoon tea.
The sunlight poured down, the autumn breeze gently blowing.
Neither had any appetite, constantly watching the images inside the Abyss Mythological World.
This isn’t a fantasy epic movie, but a real Otherworld war.
In Sylph’s eyes, countless people cried bitterly, families broke, cities were destroyed, massive armies piled into mountains of corpses, yet countless heroes rose up, sacrificing their lives to buy precious ti for the retreat of the troops.
The brutal war rendered Susan, accustod to peace tis, pale-faced.
"It’s okay..." But Susan still managed to comfort the anxious Sylph.
I am rely syncing with what she sees; the other party is truly personally experiencing it and bears a pressure countless tis greater than mine.
"Sylph, just watch quietly. I’m here with you to witness the end and rebirth of an entire era."
"No matter who wins or loses, you are a double agent and will not be troubled. This is the escape route I prepared for you," Susan whispered comfortingly.
...
Rumble.
Herodotus completely penetrated the entire Abyss, reaching the lowest level.
This old man appeared increasingly aged.
He arrived in the palace, clearly underwater, yet his brilliant white hair danced like flas.
"How is this possible?"
"You have already reached here?"
At this mont, he ignored the sages of the civilization, his eyes fixed forward, finally seeing the demon on the throne.
That ancient Abyss Monarch had a handso pale face, wore a crown, and had large purple spiral ram horns protruding from the forehead.
Clad in sinister black war heavy armor resembling lobster armor, exuding a beauty of power, with long fingers wrapped around five bones resembling lobster joints.
His feet were not feet but sothing akin to beast hooves, quietly stepping on the ground.
A wave of despair, coldness, and death from ancient tis rushed forward.
The other party sat on the imperial seat, seemingly motionless, yet in actuality constantly moving.
Inside his body, it boiled like hot water, as if burning mountains and boiling seas, clamor of mountains and seas, the genes within his body were transforming.
"I’ve made it, my relentless rush here was not in vain."
The Elf Divine King, Herodotus, stepped forward, his montum continuously strengthening. At this mont, he finally began to use all his strength, leaving nothing behind.
"You have modified your bloodline, restructuring your entire form. Now, you are transforming, yet unable to move."
Herodotus understood this state.
To modify the fundantal life code is like maintaining a skyscraper at its limits without collapsing, tearing down various load-bearing walls, and then reconstructing the underlying structure.
This is the most vulnerable ti; even slight movents can cause a total genetic breakdown and flesh collapse.
"Return to your old days! Return to your tomb and slumber! Old Emperor!"
Old and decrepit, he shouted with majesty:
"The younger generations of this era were all nurtured by you, but they are already of the new era. Our new era’s war has nothing to do with you."
"I respect you as a hero of an ultra-ancient civilization... Do not fall by my hand. For now, I am weak and impoverished in knowledge, unworthy to kill you, a sage who once ruled an era."
"If I can survive and reach the pinnacle in the future, I will awaken you and battle you."
At this mont, the man on the imperial seat slowly opened his eyes, quietly observing him: "Indeed, I’ve barely repaired one arm."
Herodotus coldly looked at the man on the throne, not delaying further, extrely decisive, "Since you will not return to your era, I will take action."
Crackle!
The stored bioelectricity rapidly transford and gathered.
Under the sea, he, in an oddly precise frequency, concentrated the current around him as if his entire being was composed of threads of electric arcs.
At this mont, Herodotus used all his power.
His knotted muscles exploded, currents forming a massive manly figure, with electromagnetism forging his crown, thunder becoming his staff, and the electric field was his war robe.
"Indeed, I only have one hand."
Looking at his opponent’s power, the demon monarch on the throne slowly raised a hand, "However, most of my power lies in my hands."
He extended a pair of dark red, crystal-clear, tallic glossy, jointed, slender hands, extraordinarily broad and wide, as if containing the most terrifying power of this world.
A punch was thrown!
Like a whirlwind sweeping across the battlefield, a storm ford by the punch created a bubble cavity, spiral after spiral, shaking the entire hall, striking at the Elf King, Herodotus, in front of him.
Thump thump thump!
The air continuously shattered.
Massive thumping sounds echoed like drums and bells.
The terrifying sound was deafening, instantly punching a quick bright light out of the seabed, erupting a world-shaking airwave and heat.
A torrent of tiny white bubbles gushed forth.
Knocked back through the air, the attacking Herodotus was sent flying backward.
This is the characteristic of the strongest surface puncher, the Peacock Mantis Shrimp—"Bubble Fist."
Every punch sent half a millisecond later produces bubbles in front of the fist due to the high-speed water flow pushing the water pressure to rapidly drop and instantaneously vaporize as it punches out.
This is referred to as the cavitation phenonon.
These tiny bubbles produce massive shockwaves when they burst, capable of blasting small holes into steel propellers.
The punching mont will flash light instantly and emit heat, with the temperature at that mont hitting as high as 6,700 degrees Celsius, approximately equal to the sun’s surface temperature.
At the mont of impact, a 218-decibel sound will erupt.
Human ears cannot tolerate this, not to ntion the small lifeforms in close proximity.
Under these terrifying abilities, cos the most incredible, strongest punch.
Now, finally inheriting the true force of a punch, even with only one hand, it is an absurdly exaggerated extent.
"What is this??"
At this mont, witnessing this seemingly ordinary, straightforward punch that reached an extre, everyone was shocked.
They, in the end, were too simple and lacked foundation.
Not to ntion.
The current throne bears a strength a notch above the original.
After the instant bubble dissipated, Herodotus’ whole body seed like a ragged doll, even he revealed a mont of daze, "This punch, is this the life level of a god?"
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