64: Chapter 64 Two Blades Shatter the Sky! Abyss Eyes: How could such a monster exist on this planet?!

Su Chen's brain completed all calculations within 0.3 seconds.

Space Distortion — core defense.

It could bend the trajectory of any physical attack; fire spears, fire dragons, anything tangible thrown at it would be crushed in the twisted folds of space.

Amorphous physical form — no fixed weakness.

But Space Distortion had its limits.

That eye was thirty meters in diameter, and with the amorphous body squeezing out from the rift, the entire entity's volume far exceeded one hundred meters.

Space Distortion could not cover every inch simultaneously.

Conclusion reached.

Fire and teleportation were responsible for attrition, positioning, and creating pressure. Space Cut was the only finishing move.

Two chances.

Not a single one could be wasted.

Su Chen clenched his right hand.

Flames solidified, compressed, and elongated in his palm — a hundred-foot spear took form, the air directly ionizing at the spearhead, emitting a blinding white light.

He threw it.

The spear tore through the dark red sky, trailing a scorching white wake as it stabbed straight at Abyssal Eye.

Abyssal Eye's giant pupil rotated.

The space around it wrinkled.

The spear's trajectory suddenly bent ten meters away from it, like a noodle twisted into a pretzel by invisible hands; the flames shattered, dissipated, and returned to nothingness within the distortion.

As expected.

Su Chen's figure vanished.

Appearing in mid-air three hundred meters away, the second spear had already formed.

Thrown, bent, dissipated.

The third, the fourth, the fifth.

Each attack cut in from a different angle, and each was precisely intercepted by Space Distortion.

But Su Chen's goal was not to hit — he was measuring.

Measuring the response speed, coverage, and the limit boundaries of Space Distortion when operating at full capacity.

Abyssal Eye grew impatient.

The scarlet iris of the giant pupil was filled with black bloodshot veins, and a psychic shockwave like a materialized black tide poured down from the sky.

Su Chen teleported.

Appearing four hundred meters to the east.

The black tide smashed into where he had just been standing, collapsing the ground into a twenty-meter diameter crater; the soil at the bottom of the pit presented an impossible geometric shape — its physical structure distorted by psychic power.

On the ground.

Section Chief Han Zheng looked up at the clash between those two entities in the sky.

The aftershocks of every wave of attacks swept over the convoy, causing the metal plates on the roofs to deform repeatedly between high and low temperatures, emitting painful groans.

"This is the battle of the transcendent."

His voice was dry.

Human weapons did not even count as background noise at this level.

Wang Hao clutched the bronze piece, the golden light reflecting deep within his pupils.

Professor Henry's blue-gray eyes were fixed intently on the sky.

The collision of flames and dark purple was reflected in his pupils, and his grip on the bronze piece was so tight his knuckles turned white.

Forty years.

The thing he had chased for forty years, a power beyond the limits of medicine, existed three hundred meters above his head in a form he had never imagined.

Above the sky.

Abyssal Eye was thoroughly enraged.

Space Distortion was no longer just for defense — it began to attack actively.

The space beneath Su Chen's feet suddenly wrinkled and contracted.

He teleported away, and the air where he had been was compressed into a fist-sized black dot, then exploded, the shockwave grinding everything within a fifty-meter radius into powder.

A second contraction, a third.

Su Chen teleported continuously, weaving through Abyssal Eye's spatial strangulation.

There was only a 0.1-second interval between each disappearance and appearance, with flame stairs constantly forming and shattering beneath his feet.

At the same time, he was counting.

The gap for re-coverage after Abyssal Eye unleashed Space Distortion at full power — 0.7 seconds.

Enough.

Su Chen stopped in the high altitude five hundred meters away.

The breath in his chest was suppressed to the minimum, then violently exhaled.

He spread his hands.

Flames poured out from his body.

Not spears, not fire dragons — but arrows.

Ten, a hundred, a thousand, ten thousand.

Densely packed flame arrows formed around him, each compressed to the extreme, with temperatures approaching the limit.

Half the sky was dyed deep red, and the thermal radiation instantly evaporated the remaining water on the ground.

Everyone's faces were illuminated in a warm orange hue.

Lin Xiaoman leaned against the car window, her pupils reflecting that sea of inverted flame stars, her lips opening silently.

A snap of his fingers.

Ten thousand arrows fired simultaneously.

The orange-red points of light poured down like a torrential rain, smashing toward Abyssal Eye in an overwhelming deluge.

Space Distortion in front of Abyssal Eye operated at full capacity, bending, crushing, and dissipating.

Ten thousand arrows turned to nothingness within the distortion field.

Not enough.

Su Chen brought his hands together.

Great Flame Ring.

A column of fire, even larger than the one in the East Sea, shot up from his palms, exceeding ten meters in diameter, with the temperature at the core breaking through the upper limit.

It wasn't that the temperature had increased, but the density!

Flames compressed to the extreme at the same temperature had their power multiplied several times over.

The fire column bombarded Abyssal Eye's Space Distortion defense head-on.

Ten Thousand Arrows + Great Flame Ring.

Dual attacks applied pressure simultaneously.

Abyssal Eye's Space Distortion was pushed to its coverage limit.

Su Chen's perception captured it at this very moment.

At a position thirty degrees below and behind Abyssal Eye's body — a gap appeared in the coverage of Space Distortion.

So weak it was almost a vacuum.

Duration — 0.7 seconds.

Enough.

His figure vanished.

Everyone thought the rain of fire arrows and the Great Flame Ring were the main attack.

They were not.

From beginning to end, they were bait.

Su Chen appeared behind Abyssal Eye.

Distance — three meters.

He brought his right index and middle fingers together.

He slashed.

Silence.

Space ceased to exist at that location.

An invisible cutting plane pierced through Abyssal Eye's thirty-meter diameter giant pupil.

From left to right, from front to back, the entire entity was split in two.

Abyssal Eye let out a mournful cry that tore through dimensions.

The sound did not propagate through the air — it exploded directly in everyone's consciousness.

Pain, unwillingness, disbelief.

It tried to repair the rift with Space Distortion.

It was useless.

Space Cut did not cut matter or energy — it cut space itself.

If space was broken, everything inside it was broken along with it.

It could not be repaired, could not be defended against, and could not be reversed.

The giant pupil split from the midline, and dark purple energy gushed out from the rift.

But Abyssal Eye did not die.

Su Chen's pupils constricted.

The body split into two did not disintegrate — the two remaining halves twisted and squirmed in the air, attempting to merge again.

Dark purple energy proliferated wildly on the cut surface, like a severed earthworm regenerating.

Amorphous creature.

No fixed organs, no single core.

Slashing it open was equivalent to cutting a lump of mud into two — both lumps were still alive.

Su Chen landed ten meters below it.

The dizziness of psychic exhaustion surged up, and the edges of his vision went black.

The 0.7-second window had closed.

Space Distortion re-covered Abyssal Eye's entire body.

One chance, gone.

Only one last chance remained.

And Abyssal Eye already knew his methods.

The two remaining halves stopped their merging movement.

The giant pupil, split into two, rotated its left and right halves, simultaneously locking onto Su Chen's position.

Psychic shockwaves blasted from both directions simultaneously.

Su Chen teleported.

Appearing three hundred meters away.

His knees went weak, and he slammed one knee onto the flame stairs.

The reserve of transcendent energy in his body had bottomed out.

The flames could not be maintained for long, and the number of teleports was also counting down.

And Space Cut — only one last shot remained.

One shot.

Where to hit?

Both halves were moving, both had Space Distortion protecting them, and both were wary of him getting close.

Su Chen tapped his finger on his knee.

Tap.

Just once.

Enough.

Amorphous creatures have no core — wrong.

It had one.

Its core was not an organ, but its will.

It was that eye.

The pupil.

Both halves were attempting to merge, and the direction of the merger — was toward that giant pupil split in two.

Because the pupil was its true body. The body was merely an extension.

The moment the two halves of the pupil merged, all energy would concentrate on the repair point.

There would be an extremely short vacuum period for Space Distortion!

Because it had to withdraw defensive power from the periphery to repair the core.

Su Chen stood up.

Flames were squeezed out from the last reserves within his body; no longer ten thousand arrows, no longer a fire column.

Just one spear.

One.

He compressed all the remaining flames into this one spear.

Temperature was no longer important; what mattered was that it was bright enough, big enough, and enough to make Abyssal Eye believe this was another frontal attack.

He threw it.

The fire spear, trailing a scorching white wake, headed straight for the left half of Abyssal Eye.

Space Distortion activated.

The fire spear bent and shattered.

At the same time — the two halves violently merged.

The two halves of the giant pupil connected in mid-air.

Dark purple energy surged wildly toward the junction point, repairing, healing, and regenerating.

At that moment, Space Distortion contracted from the periphery, pouring entirely into the repair of the pupil core.

A 0.3-second window.

Shorter than last time.

But Su Chen was no longer three hundred meters away.

He teleported the same second the fire spear was thrown. Not to dodge, but to advance.

Appearing directly above Abyssal Eye.

Distance to the pupil junction — two meters.

He brought his right index and middle fingers together.

The last of his psychic power was forcibly squeezed out from the depths of his exhausted consciousness.

The veins in his temples bulged, and warm liquid gushed from his nasal cavity.

Slash.

The second Space Cut.

Not horizontal. A vertical slash.

Piercing vertically down from the very center of the pupil junction.

Crossing the first remaining horizontal cut plane in a cross shape.

Abyssal Eye's pupil, while in a half-repaired state, was torn open for the second time.

This time, the cutting plane precisely pierced through its most energy-dense core — the junction point that was in the middle of repair and completely undefended.

Abyssal Eye was torn into four pieces.

The Tier D anomaly disintegrated in its final mournful cry.

Dark purple energy fragments scattered in all directions like fireworks, turning to nothingness in the sunlight.

The rift in the sky closed.

The dark red faded away inch by inch, like a dirty cloth being lifted from the sky.

Azure blue seeped in from the edges, spreading and covering the entire horizon.

Sunlight poured down.

A golden crystal fell from the void.

Su Chen reached out and caught it.

It was warm to the touch, with a ball of golden light pulsing inside.

Tier D crystal.

The key to the Tier 3: Fire-Bearer breakthrough.

He put away the crystal and stood in mid-air.

Flames spontaneously condensed into the shape of a cape behind him, snapping and billowing in the wind.

Against the light, his silhouette was edged with gold by the sun, and the cracks in his mask looked like medals carved over a millennium in the light.

On the ground.

The survivors of the War Zone knelt in the scorched earth.

Their foreheads pressed against the muddy ground, shoulders trembling, sobs welling up from the depths of their throats — not cries of fear, but cries of survival, of being shattered and reformed.

The soldiers from both warring sides put down their guns.

Some knelt, some stood, but everyone's eyes were looking in the same direction.

Liu Yuyan knelt on one knee, the Sword of Judgment propped in the rubble.

The holy runes on her silver-white armor were completely dimmed, her stamina exhausted, but there was a smile on the corners of her lips.

Lin Xiaoman leaned against the car window, tears blurring her entire vision, her lips moving, but not a single word could come out.

Henry clutched the bronze piece and Isaac's photo.

The two items were stacked together, the metal pressed against the photo paper.

His eyes were dry, but in his blue-gray pupils, only that silhouette against the light in the sky remained.

The two characters on the bronze piece were soaked with blood and sweat.

Kindling.

Section Chief Han Zheng slumped in the driver's seat.

His gun rested on his lap, his hands hanging down.

"Three years later..."

His throat felt like it had been rubbed with sandpaper.

"Can humanity really survive?"

Wang Hao held the bronze piece.

The golden light flashed twice, and warmth seeped from the metal into his palm.

As if in answer.

In mid-air.

Su Chen put away the golden crystal, the flame cape billowing silently behind him.

Beneath the mask, the curve of his lips was extremely shallow.

The audience for this play was more than expected.

And the authenticity brought by this play was enough to take everything to the next level.

Act 6: Heavenly Judgment.

Wrap.