"How dare a lowly insect call himself the Mist Emperor! There is but one emperor in the Abyss, and that is the Abyssal Monarch!"
A voice like divine thunder boomed from the pillar of light, imbued with unchallengeable authority. Like a heavenly edict, it pronounced death upon the so-called Mist Emperor.
To claim the title of emperor in this world was to blaspheme the sacred name of the Abyssal Monarch and defy the faith of the abyssal denizens. Such arrogance could only end in divine punishment.
From the four corners of the sky, four figures descended, their auras overwhelming. They were the Four Great Priests of the Pure Land, descending together for the first time in history—an unprecedented formation that sent tremors through the world.
Though the Pure Land had remained outwardly calm after Yuchi Nanxing's failed return, inwardly, the Abyssal Monarch had been seething. The emergence of the Mist Emperor—one who dared control both the Abyssal Dust and Abyss Beasts—was a threat he could neither comprehend nor tolerate.
The Abyssal Monarch, son of the Creator God, had ruled for millions of years. Yet not even he, with all his divine insight, could fathom how such power had come to be. The Dust of the Abyss was a force of primordial destruction—something only the Creator Himself could command. No one else should have been able to manipulate it.
And so, though the Abyssal Monarch had taken no overt action, the Mist Emperor had become a thorn in his divine heart—an uncontrollable variable in a world where the Monarch allowed no chaos.
From the void descended the Grand Priest of the Great Desolation. As his feet touched the earth, a wave of vast, ancient energy washed over Yun Che. It was the fully awakened form of the Great Dao Buddha Art, wielded by a True God, a divine force at the pinnacle of the mortal path. Under this divine power, Yun Che's grievous wounds began healing with shocking speed. In the blink of an eye, his external injuries had all but vanished.
"Such extraordinary mastery of the Great Buddha Art," the Grand Desolation Priest muttered with rare admiration. "To attain the mortal path's zenith at your age... truly remarkable."
If not for Yun Che's cultivation in the Great Buddha Art, even the divine healing of a True God would have yielded but half the result. But Yun Che's body radiated with a familiar, sacred resonance—proof that he had inherited the Desolate God's legacy.
"Tch! Grand Desolation, don't get any ideas." Liu Xiao, the Culinary Priest, narrowed his eyes and stepped forward. "I found this little treasure first. Don't even think about stealing him away."
"Hmph. Do I look that bored?" Grand Desolation snorted, turning away with indifference.
Despite their banter, the four priests carried an air of unshakable confidence. Before the Abyssal Monarch, all things must bow. In their eyes, no one—not even the Mist Emperor—could escape the barrier they had jointly woven. Not the Six Realms. Not the Seven Gods.
"We don't have time to squabble today," the Spirit Immortal Priest sighed, massaging his temples. "The two of you have been at this for millions of years. Can we please focus?"
Then came the solemn voice of the Ten Thousand Dao Priest:
"Mist Emperor, your mask will be torn away today. You have defiled the divine might of the Abyssal Monarch and sown lies to mislead the masses. For these transgressions alone, your life is forfeit!"
With a wave of his hand, the air trembled as an ancient formation materialized around them.
"This is the Twilight of the Gods," he declared. "Even a True God cannot escape its grasp. Once trapped within, only despair and death await. Unless you wield the power of the Creator Himself… you will never break free."
It was Ten Thousand Dao's most proud creation in a million years—the culmination of all his mastery over the laws of formation. Even the Abyssal Monarch had once praised its profundity. Had it not been for the Nirvana Reverse Wheel Pearl and the Panming Void-Breaking Mirror, not even the Monarch could have escaped its binding.
Now, all the Abyss Beasts and Ghosts within the barrier were sealed in place—frozen mid-snarl, mid-roar, as though they were mere statues on display. Their once-terrifying presence had vanished, replaced by an eerie stillness.
At the very center, the grey-eyed figure—source of the world-quaking might—was likewise motionless, utterly silent, locked within the formation. He seemed... defeated.
"Hah! Mist Emperor, where's all that arrogance from earlier?" mocked the Smiling Priest, grinning with schadenfreude. "Cat got your tongue? Afraid now, are you?"
The other three priests, however, remained cautious. Anyone who could manipulate Abyss Dust and command Abyss Beasts was no ordinary foe. The Abyssal Monarch himself had speculated that the Mist Emperor might be born of the Original Death Abyss, absorbing its destruction into power, becoming something… incalculable.
Meanwhile, Yun Che slowly opened his eyes. His injuries continued to mend at astonishing speed. This was the evolved form of the Great Dao Buddha Art—its regeneration was heaven-defying.
But this power came at a price. Even with the divine body of the Great Wilderness and these unparalleled healing arts, defeating the Abyssal Monarch in open battle… was nigh impossible.
Yun Che's current goal was simple: destroy the divine source, delay the opening of the abyssal transmission, and continue his silent cultivation in the shadows.
He believed—no, he knew—that one day, he would stand shoulder to shoulder with Ni Xuan himself, rise to the level of a Creator God, and bring a true end to the Abyssal Calamity.
But that day could be centuries, millennia, or even eons away. The road ahead was obscured by uncertainty.
Even so… a flicker of hope remained: that Yuan Huang might awaken from his delusion and abandon the path to the Rebirth World. A slender thread of possibility—but one Yun Che dared not relinquish.
Just then, the Grand Desolation Priest furrowed his brow.
"Something's wrong… we've only trapped a body?"
"What nonsense!" Ten Thousand Dao retorted. "You think Yuan Chen's power could obstruct your senses?"
Moments ago, the Mist Emperor's might had threatened to tear Yun Che apart. Ragnarok had already been deployed. There was no way the Mist Emperor could have escaped.
"Let me try." The Spirit Immortal Priest raised his hand, summoning the Primordial Lightning.
Thunder raged. The bolt descended, piercing the grey fog and blasting it apart. Even the Dust of the Abyss could not withstand this divine might.
When the mist dispersed, the "Mist Emperor" was finally revealed—
A solitary Abyss Beast, at the peak of the Divine Realm.
Nothing more.
"What…?" Liu Xiao gawked, dumbfounded. "The Mist Emperor was just… this beast?!"
"Impossible!" the Grand Desolation Priest snarled, his expression dark. "That's no emperor—just a decoy!"
Priest Ten Thousand Dao remained silent, eyes closed in grim resignation. Four great priests, united under divine will, and all they had accomplished… was sealing a beast.
Then—
A ripple of grey mist. The grey-eyed silhouette reappeared beyond the barrier, standing just outside Ragnarok.
Mocking. Untouched.
Before anyone could react, the mist swirled—and he vanished once again.
"Damn it!" Liu Xiao roared, utterly enraged. "I've never been humiliated like this in my life!"
Even his obsession with culinary arts was momentarily forgotten. Rage was all that remained.
The Grand Desolation and Ten Thousand Dao Priests exchanged bitter smiles. With nowhere else to vent their fury, they unleashed their divine might upon the trapped Abyss Beasts within Ragnarok, obliterating them in a single breath. Not a trace remained.
Only the Spirit Immortal Priest remained unmoved, lost in thought. As though waiting… for something greater.
In a shadowed corner, unseen by all, Yun Che's lips curved into a smirk.
He had done it.
He had fooled them all.
And on top of that, delivered a slap across their proud, divine faces.
The feeling?
Exquisite.
(End of Chapter)