Chapter 184: The Overflowing Cup
Xu Zhi tried to use [Eye of Secrets] to peer through the small aberrant creature’s branches and look at It.
She couldn’t control the extraordinary energy output of the [Eye of Secrets]—she could only “open her eyelids,” not make her eyes conveniently “go nearsighted.” Maybe her level was still too low. But there was no time left to level up.
Looking directly at It was dangerous, but Xu Zhi had to know what state It was in now. Had the Federation’s attack hurt It? What about the others in Cloud City?
Her “gaze” first turned toward Zhong Lingfan and the others—she was afraid that after she looked at It, she might not be able to look anywhere else.
To her surprise, Zhong Lingfan’s group wasn’t too badly off. The small aberrant creature’s branches had blocked most of the impact and radiation—heat, wind, all of it. The [Lamp]-attribute defensive barrier they’d constructed took care of the rest. In fact, with Cloud City’s air now saturated with [Lamp]-type extraordinary energy, that barrier seemed even more stable and reliable.
The remaining heat and radiation that leaked through both layers of protection couldn’t cause much damage anymore. Most people inside were transcendents; for the few ordinary people showing symptoms of discomfort, [Heart]-attribute transcendents were already healing them.
Seeing that, Xu Zhi finally shifted her gaze to It.
The moment she looked, she saw Its outer form clearly.
What used to be a walking nightmare for anyone with trypophobia—an amalgam of countless heads—had, under the baptism of [Lamp]-type nuclear fire, mostly melted. Pus streamed down where faces once were, turning It into a grotesque, humanoid slug dripping with thick, revolting fluid. It swayed unsteadily but still did not fall.
Then came the flood of information.
The instant it poured in, Xu Zhi slammed her eyes shut. Even so, she still saw plenty—unavoidably.
But surprisingly, she didn’t suffer the brain overload or instant blindness she had expected from glimpsing such a higher existence. The influx of “information” had shaken her, yes, and the backlash from perceiving a being so far above was real…
But—
It was far weaker than she’d imagined. In fact— It didn’t even feel as oppressive as the last time she left Midnight, when she’d seen those magnificent, intricate sigils floating across the sky and ground.
Those sigils had felt like one more glance would crush her completely under their cosmic pressure. But It… It didn’t carry that same untouchable, godlike weight.
Was It injured?
Xu Zhi, eyes still closed, steadied herself and began to sort through the “information” in her mind.
She deliberately avoided thinking at first—otherwise, her brain would have immediately tried to interpret everything and likely crashed from overload. She had intentionally blanked her mind to avoid that.
Now, it seemed she had been overly cautious.
Processing the data didn’t take long. Almost instantly after she stopped forcing her mind blank, Xu Zhi realized— It really was wounded. And not lightly.
But most of those wounds came from Midnight, not the Federation.
The good news: the Federation’s resistance wasn’t meaningless. It had already been locked in a tug-of-war with Midnight, and the Federation’s nuclear strike became the straw that broke the camel’s back. An attack that would once have been no threat at all now pushed It into disadvantage. Midnight’s backlash surged, forcing It to pay a greater price just to hold on.
The bad news: It still had a backup plan.
A sound—indescribable, somewhere between a human shriek and the screech of tearing metal—burst from Its colossal body. Xu Zhi’s eardrums had already regenerated, so she heard it clearly.
But there wasn’t the rage or frenzy she expected in that voice— only urgency.
It was in a hurry.
Xu Zhi noticed that the ground beneath her, which had long since turned into Midnight’s dark soil, suddenly began to blur. The ruined, bomb-scorched city beneath flickered into view— as if reality itself was beginning to return.
That only confirmed it: It was losing ground in the tug-of-war.
A chill ran through her, sharp and sudden— as though someone was cursing her with the most venomous hatred in the world.
“…What? What’s that got to do with me?”
Don’t you dare blame me for your mess! She hadn’t gone anywhere near It, hadn’t meddled at all—she’d been behaving perfectly well beside the small aberrant creature!
Then came a roar of wind. The temperature plummeted. The [Lamp]-type extraordinary energy filling the air began to thin and fade.
Xu Zhi knew exactly who did it. It.
The light-aspected energy in the atmosphere had disrupted Its forced “balance” between Midnight and Cloud City, slowing and even reversing the fusion process. Now It was forcibly drawing all that [Lamp]-type energy out—along with most of the city’s radiation and searing winds.
But this act only deepened Its injuries. Of course, It wasn’t unprepared.
After that shriek, Xu Zhi could feel it—the great array the Federation had set up was pulling even harder, its gravitational “draw” intensifying.
Outside Cloud City, some of the transcendents who’d barely been holding on suddenly began showing the same symptoms as ordinary people: blood pouring from their seven orifices, red blotches spreading beneath their skin, flesh sloughing off, blood flowing backward through their veins. Within seconds, their entire bodies shed layer after layer—skin, then muscle, then sinew—until their tissues unraveled into countless “threads” stretching from the earth to the black sun above, feeding it.
When only their bones remained, they collapsed. But even their bones weren’t spared— they turned to ash, caught the wind, and rose once more—returning to the same fate.
Flesh, soul, even dust—all were consumed. Nothing left behind.
Under Its catalysis, the array spun faster and faster. Across the Federation’s vast lands, not a single living being remained intact.
In just a few short minutes, the black sun—the [Cup]— was already full.
