My Goblin System : Levelling up with my SSS Class Devouring skill Chapter 490

But looking at Khar’razoth’s four-hundred-foot form, still powerful despite damage, still regenerating despite disruption, still capable of fighting for hours more..

.

I have no choice left , if i dont do this then everyone is dead

—-------------

Before committing to Final Version, Satou tried every remaining option:

[TEMPORAL MANIPULATION MAXIMUM]

Combined Ti Dilation, Temporal Echo, Chrono-Shield, Age Acceleration—every ti-based ability simultaneously, creating zones of temporal chaos where past and future intersected present.

Khar’razoth adapted within two minutes, its Ancient God nature letting it exist across tilines simultaneously.

[NIGHTMARE SHADOW TERROR COMBINATION]

rged his three darkness-based powersets into unified assault—Nightmare Lord’s Domain warping reality, Shadow Absolute controlling dinsional space, Terror Manifestation creating physical horrors.

Khar’razoth’s divine light burned through darkness within three minutes, its inherent radiance too pure for shadows to survive.

[HOLY DEMONIC FUSION ATTEMPT TWO]

Tried creating another impossible hybrid technique like the one that had matched Endless Hunger—

His control slipped. The technique exploded prematurely, damaging him more than Khar’razoth. Cost 4% HP, 3% Mana, nearly killed him through friendly fire.

[HOUR TWELVE - THE DECISION:]

[SATOU STATUS:]

HP: 5,900/20,000Stamina: 8% (barely functional)Mana: 9% (nearly exhausted)Ti Remaining: ~8 minutes before Version Two force-cancels

Eight minutes left. Maybe less. And he still hadn’t seriously threatened Khar’razoth’s existence.

The Ancient God was damaged, yes. Weakened, yes. But not defeated. Not broken. Not unable to continue fighting.

anwhile Satou was barely standing, held upright only by Overdrive montum, resources nearly exhausted, body accumulating damage faster than healing could process.

In eight minutes, Version Two would end. He’d revert to normal state—exhausted, wounded, depleted. And Khar’razoth would kill him. Then consu the settlent.

Final Version. Now. No more delays.

Satou teleported to create distance, appearing half a mile from Khar’razoth’s position, and drew in a breath that tasted of blood and ash and desperation.

His fla-like eyes—blazing white from Version Two power—locked onto the settlent in the distance, three miles away, where everyone he loved waited and watched and hoped.

He Thought of every one in the village.

For them. Always for them.

"BERSERK MODE: OVERDRIVE FINAL VERSION!"

If Version Two’s neural activation had been all nerves firing simultaneously, Final Version was every neuron in his brain attempting to occupy the sa space at the sa mont.

Satou’s consciousness fragnted.

Not taphorically. Not gradually. Instantly and completely.

His unified sense of self split into dozens of parallel thought-streams, each one processing different aspects of existence simultaneously:

One fragnt focused entirely on pain managent, trying to process agony that exceeded every scale.

Another fragnt maintained combat awareness, tracking Khar’razoth’s position despite everything.

A third fragnt controlled motor functions, keeping his body upright despite systemic failure.

A fourth fragnt managed ability activation, coordinating hundreds of powers simultaneously.

Dozens more fragnts handled respiration, circulation, regeneration, mana flow, stamina distribution, sensory processing, spatial awareness, temporal perception, and countless other functions that normally operated subconsciously.

His Mind Fortress, pushed to absolute maximum, was the only thing preventing complete psychological collapse—but even that legendary ntal defense was cracking under strain that would have shattered demon lord consciousnesses.

The pain from neural fragntation was indescribable. Like having his mind torn into pieces, each piece aware of the others, each piece screaming in isolated agony, unable to fully reconnect into unified consciousness.

His Dragon’s Heart, beating at six tis normal rate during Version Two, suddenly accelerated beyond any conceivable sustainable rhythm.

Six tis beca ten tis.

Ten beca twenty.

Twenty beca hundreds of beats per second—the organ vibrating rather than beating, oscillating so fast it created sonic frequencies audible to enhanced hearing.

The Dragon’s Heart wasn’t just glowing anymore—it was blazing like a miniature sun inside Satou’s chest, visible through his scales as white-hot radiance that hurt to look at directly, throwing shadows in all directions like he’d swallowed a star.

Blood vessels throughout his body weren’t just bursting—they were disintegrating. The pressure was too extre. The temperature too high. Blood itself was boiling in his veins, turning from liquid to gas, his cardiovascular system trying to circulate superheated vapor instead of normal blood.

His Legendary Regeneration was creating new blood vessels as fast as the old ones failed, but the replacent vessels lasted only seconds before they too succumbed to impossible strain.

Satou’s body beca a grotesque cycle of vascular death and rebirth, blood vessels forming and failing and forming again in continuous loops asured in microseconds.

Version Two had liquefied his muscles. Final Version took that process further.

His muscles didn’t just turn to liquid—they vaporized.

Solid tissue beca liquid. Liquid beca gas. Gas beca plasma—ionized matter that existed in a state between matter and energy.

Satou could feel it happening. Could feel his biceps literally evaporating inside his arms. Could feel his quadriceps turning to superheated vapor inside his legs. Could feel every major muscle group in his body transitioning through states of matter that shouldn’t be compatible with biological life.

And his Regeneration, pushed into territory beyond mythical tier, was reforming the vaporized tissue—pulling plasma back into gas, gas back into liquid, liquid back into solid in reverse progression that violated thermodynamics.

Each complete cycle—solid to plasma to solid—took approximately 0.3 seconds.

His body was undergoing this transformation continuously.

Thirty tis per second for major muscle groups. Sixty tis per second for smaller muscles. His entire muscular system was in constant state of death and rebirth at rates that made cellular division look slow.

The energy cost was astronomical. The pain transcended description. The impossibility of it was absolute.

And yet it was happening.

His bones didn’t just fracture anymore.

They shattered.

Not from external force. From internal pressure. His vaporizing-and-reforming muscles exerted force on his skeleton that exceeded bone strength by orders of magnitude.

Every bone in Satou’s body broke simultaneously.

Skull fragnts. Spine pulverized. Ribs reduced to splinters. Arms and legs fractured in hundreds of places. Fingers and toes crushed to powder. His entire skeletal system reduced to broken fragnts held together only by surrounding tissue.

And then his Regeneration rebuilt them.

Each bone was reford denser. Stronger. Material that was more crystal than calcium, harder than steel, held together by forces that operated on quantum level rather than just chemical bonds.

But the rebuilding process took ti—precious seconds where Satou’s body was held upright by muscle and willpower alone, his skeleton literally absent, his form a sack of flesh and vapor wrapped around nothing.

Twenty seconds of total skeletal failure before regeneration completed the rebuild.

During those twenty seconds, Satou experienced what it felt like to exist without bones—every movent wrong, every position unsupported, his body collapsing under its own weight because there was nothing to hold it up.