It was over.
Everything was over.
When the body of the old ruler was torn in two and floated in the icy Chaos Void, everything had come to an end.
The surging old power now began to dissipate around, the energy that could corrode everything also slowly returned to calm.
Lide, his robe dyed red with blood, even his pierced chest had not yet healed, displayed a face full of exhaustion.
He scanned the Chaos Void. At this moment, within millions of miles of this battlefield, everything had turned into a void.
Torn spaces had formed one violent spatial turbulence after another.
Even in the distance, dozens of chaotic whirlpools capable of twisting space were now spinning rapidly.
The Multi-dimensional Plane of Glory, after he voluntarily extracted power, had self-collapsed; the lands and mountains were being drawn towards the vortex.
They formed one deathtrap after another, where even the Main God would have to avoid their sharpness.
