560: Chapter 560 What exactly are you?!

A terrifying aura, one that could not be described in words nor fathomed by common sense, erupted violently from the youth's slender body!

This was not a leakage of power, nor a diffusion of Spiritual Pressure—it was a declaration of existence that was far more essential, far more primal.

It was as if the dam that had sealed away the world-destroying torrent since time immemorial had just cracked open at this very moment.

It was as if a Chaos Vicious Beast, slumbering beyond the fetal membranes of the Universe and feeding on the stars, had slowly turned one of its eyes.

It was as if the "Dusk of the Heavens," long buried by the passage of time and mentioned only in the most forbidden ancient scrolls, had seen its lingering embers and echoes pierce through the endless river of time to descend and manifest here once more!

The "quality" of this aura had completely transcended the barriers of any Realm.

Soul Transformation Early Stage? Middle Stage? Late Stage? Or perhaps even the threshold of the legendary Void Refining?

Before such an aura, all classifications regarding Realms appeared so pale and ridiculous.

It represented a status, an absolute suppression in terms of life form—just as a two-dimensional painting could never understand a three-dimensional entity, just as an ant could never, in its entire life, gaze upon the majesty of a Dragon.

The Void Realm fell into absolute "silence."

It was not that there was no sound, but rather that all sounds—the hissing of energy flow, the whispers of space itself, even the trembling of the threads of fate being pulled taut—had been completely devoured and suppressed by this pure "sense of existence."

In the center of this Domain, stripped of all color and sound, only Wufa's seemingly slender figure stood quietly.

He stood there, the boiling purple-black demonic patterns surging around him like living flames, or perhaps like the shadows of clouds hanging from the sky.

He was no longer that taciturn youth, but a monument of slaughter that had walked out of an ancient killing tribulation—a peerless fiend whose very "existence" alone was enough to make the ten thousand Daos wail and all worlds tremble!

In the distance, the nearly broken Wutian used his last ounce of strength to struggle to open his heavy eyelids.

Through his blurred vision, that figure, both familiar and extremely strange, came into view.

Demonic patterns coiled like living snakes, and those eyes, which should have been clear, were now burning with the purest purple-black killing intent, enough to freeze the Soul.

There was no memory, no warmth, only the instinct for destruction.

The corners of Wutian's mouth twitched with extreme difficulty.

This was not a smile, but a complex expression that crushed together endless bitterness, relief, helplessness, and heart-piercing pain.

His gaze seemed to pierce through that terrifying exterior, seeing the frail Soul trapped deep within this monstrous power, being devoured bit by bit.

"He still woke up..."

As he silently recited these words in his heart, Wutian felt his Divine Soul dripping blood.

This was not the awakening he had hoped to see—this was the cruelest price, the most tragic ending brought about by his inability to protect.

"Roar—!"

A Dragon roar, suppressed to the point of distortion and filled with humiliation and extreme fear, burst from Ao Huang's throat.

His massive Dragon body was trembling violently and uncontrollably, as if every Dragon bone was groaning under an unbearable burden.

The noble and majestic Dragon scales were no longer proud armor, but instead, they stood up in reverse, one by one, like a frightened hedgehog—

His Dragon tail was tucked tightly between his hind legs, presenting the most pathetic defensive posture of a lowly creature facing its natural predator.

This was no longer the Dragon that looked down upon the world, but a stray dog, scared out of its wits, whimpering and curled up in a corner.

"You... what on earth are you—?!"

Ao Huang's voice was torn, every syllable soaked in uncontrollable trembling.

The pride and dignity of the Dragon Clan were shattered completely in the face of the survival instinct screaming wildly from the depths of his Bloodline.

He only wanted to escape, immediately, right now!

Yet his body was firmly "nailed" to the spot by that invisible, intangible, yet heavy-as-billions-of-stars pressure, and even turning his eyeballs required immense courage.

Xu Ming's situation was equally dire.

His four arms, which had once elegantly manipulated space and torn through dimensions, were now twitching stiffly.

The spatial runes inscribed on his arms, which should have been flowing stably, were like candlelight in a gale, flickering and twisting frantically, even cracking with fine fissures!

His form flickered at high speed between states of "solid" and "void," attempting to merge into the Void Realm and escape—only to discover in horror that the surrounding "Void Realm" itself was rejecting him, was trembling!

This Domain, which should have been his home and sanctuary, was now conveying the clearest, most primal fear to him.

"Impossible... this is impossible... this aura... this aura..."

In Xu Ming's pure black eyes, that layer of eternal, indifferent nothingness had long since shattered, leaving only naked horror as his perception was overturned.

The foundation of the world he relied on for survival and understanding was peeling away piece by piece before his eyes.

Hun Yan could not even say a single word.

He was not retreating voluntarily—rather, his extremely keen Soul perception had issued the highest level of destruction warning to his body the moment it came into contact with that aura.

His body betrayed his will, stumbling back three steps, each step causing ripples of shattered Soul Power to manifest in the Void Realm.

The knuckles of his fingers gripping the dark blue Soul spear were pinched until they were deathly pale, and the spear itself emitted a faint, weeping-like hum, its tip drooping in fear.

He could "see"—inside that slender figure, a vast, ancient, and unfathomably dark consciousness; just a single "breath" leaked unconsciously was enough to make his own Soul feel like a lonely boat in a storm, ready to be crushed into the finest dust at any moment.

Resist? Even the mere thought of it was a blasphemy and a luxury.

Just then—

Wufa slowly raised his head.

Those purple-black eyes, surging with endless baleful energy, swept calmly and indifferently over the three faces twisted in extreme fear before him.

Then, the corners of his mouth curved upward ever so slightly.

This was not a smile.

It was a crack opening in the abyss, the first cold note of a destruction sonata, a glance devoid of any emotion cast by the Law of slaughter upon things about to die.

"...You all..."

The voice sounded.

Hoarse, deep, like two pieces of profound iron rusted for ten thousand ages rubbing against each other, every syllable scraping at the listeners' Divine Souls, carrying an inhuman, ancient, and eerie tone.

"...must die."

This was not Wufa speaking.

This was some indescribable, ancient existence that had awakened through his shell, crossing the dust of time to issue a final verdict to the ants before it.

The moment the words fell, that closed vertical eye in the center of his forehead, woven from demonic patterns—

Suddenly throbbed!

Like the beating of a heart, or perhaps the frown of a slumbering giant beast.

"Boom—!!!"

Boundless, viscous, tangible killing intent, like the waters of the Underworld River bursting through a dam, instantly submerged the entire Void Realm!

Light was devoured, the temperature plummeted to absolute zero, and even time itself seemed to be frozen and shredded in this pure killing intent.

True slaughter, at this moment—

Descended.