Chapter 181: The Descent of a “God”
Standing at a distance, watching the rift, Xu Zhi suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of dread.
The next moment, her ominous premonition became reality. From the depths of midnight, a massive figure — woven from blood-red and pitch-black — slowly shifted into the world. Its form was vaguely humanoid, yet no matter how one looked, it could not truly be called “human.” Its entire body was covered in grotesque, tumor-like growths — except they weren’t really tumors. Upon closer inspection, most of them were heads: the heads of monsters, and of humans, hanging from its body like ghastly trophies or medals of honor.
And those heads were not dead. Each bore its own expression — some joyful, some ferocious — their eyeballs twitching and rolling wildly, or staring out into the world with the innocent curiosity of a newborn child.
By all logic, such a thing covered in heads should appear bloated and deformed, yet its form was so emaciated and elongated that even burdened with hundreds of heads, it retained a bizarre, almost twisted harmony — so long as one didn’t look too closely.
Those heads didn’t simply hang still; they moved beneath its translucent skin, squirming like mischievous children playing tag. Some human faces crawled from its neck down to its thighs; bestial skulls slid from the backs of its hands up to its shoulders. Not just a few — all of them writhed restlessly. The mere sight was enough to shatter one’s mind, and this creature’s very existence radiated an overwhelming [Cup]-type spiritual corruption.
Yes — the instant it stepped out of the rift, the entire world seemed to pause for a single second. Even Xu Zhi could clearly feel that her heartbeat had stopped.
A heartbeat later, every living being in the world underwent an invisible spiritual appraisal. Only the stronger [Lamp]-type transcendents, or those with unusually stable minds, managed to resist. Everyone else failed the appraisal instantly.
Within moments, countless lives lost their consciousness.
Their minds were invaded, their mental defenses breached. The [Cup] energy in the air poured into their bodies, and psychic corruption bloomed in their brains. In less than half a minute, their bodies began to twist — pus-like blood oozing out, rising once again into the sky.
If one were to split open their skulls, they would find nothing inside but pools of black, viscous fluid.
It hadn’t even attacked. Merely by descending into this world, half the living beings in existence were driven insane under the weight of its corruption.
As more and more blood rose into the air, the surviving humans finally realized — the black liquid wasn’t flowing down from the sun. The blood of all living things was flowing upward, thickening and darkening as it was drawn toward it.
That sun — it was a cup, meant to collect the blood and flesh of all creation.
Already, the dark sun was half-filled with blood. Only thirty minutes had passed since the thirteenth pillar had ignited.
At this rate, the apocalypse would end within two hours. Humanity would vanish — no, life itself across the entire Federation would vanish.
The swiftness of the destruction far exceeded anyone’s imagination.
Even Xu Zhi had never imagined such a form for a “Supreme Being.” The Narrator had always called it that — so she had assumed it would appear sacred, radiant, divine. She hadn’t expected… this thing that could shatter one’s sanity with a glance. Just looking too long made her skin crawl with goosebumps.
And then came the eyes — countless eyes blooming across those hanging heads. They darted and rolled in every direction, yet among them, there were always a few — sometimes dozens — that stared straight at her.
Yes. The moment it appeared, Xu Zhi was noticed. And she was being watched.
The instant she was seen, she was struck by a surge of spiritual corruption — dozens of times stronger than what others endured. For them, it was mere leakage from its presence. For her, it was intentional.
Even though Xu Zhi had braced herself and managed to endure, her ears filled with a storm of whispers — some in human voices, others guttural and inhuman, some she could understand, others not. The sounds rose and fell erratically: men and women, old and young, monsters snarling and whispering in languages beyond comprehension.
But among them, she caught a few clear phrases—
“It’s seen her.”
“Such pretty eyes.”
“Gray eyes. I want them.”
“Yes… dig them out. Wear them.”
Xu Zhi’s mouth twitched. She couldn’t tell whether those words came from the being’s will or from the countless heads muttering on its body — but she was sure of one thing: the voices came from them.
She could feel their hunger, their obsession with her eyes. Yet for some reason, it didn’t move against her. It simply stood there, as if preparing something.
Then, all at once, the eyes stopped their erratic movement and turned in unison — gazing toward the four corners of Cloud City.
The next moment, a dim red light began to emanate from every eye. The glow grew stronger and stronger… until bloodlike tears began to flow down.
Only Xu Zhi understood what it was doing.
It was invading Cloud City.
Through her Authority, Xu Zhi already held partial control over the city’s black mist — not complete, but enough to sense that a massive [Cup]-attribute force was attempting to infiltrate and reshape the mist, to seize control of it.
She kept calm, letting it happen. The black mist did not resist; instead, she quietly dispersed her own Authority throughout it, blending in unseen.
As the creature’s blood rained down upon Cloud City, the streets were soon coated in a viscous, crimson layer. Where its blood touched, the black mist began to stir — ghostly trees shimmering into existence across the cityscape.
Xu Zhi recognized it instantly: a projection of Midnight.
It hadn’t abandoned the Midnight Realm — or perhaps, it couldn’t.
High above the Federation, the black sun’s chalice of blood was now more than half full.
Within Cloud City, the streets were turning into damp soil. Skyscrapers stretched and twisted into tall, black trees.
The boundary between Cloud City and the Federation was blurring. Soon, the sealed city would reconnect with the outside world.
Xu Zhi glanced back. In the distance, a faint golden barrier shimmered around the cluster of survivors. Satisfied, she turned back, lit her lantern, and waited.
It was drawing the Midnight Realm into the physical world — and to do that, it would have to break the wall between Cloud City and the Federation.
When that happened, the Federation’s counterattack would have a target.
She decided to wait and see whether their strike could harm this so-called “God.”
