The Rise of the Black Plain

Chapter 2925 The Origin of Hell and the Upper Realm

Chapter 2925  The Origin of Hell and the Upper Realm

The beams of light surged toward Minos with blinding speed, their encoded information indecipherable in the split-second flash.

He made no effort to parse it—his focus shattered as his throne lurched to a halt in the spacetime void, the abrupt stillness nearly sickening him.

Yet when the throne's mechanical welcome echoed through his senses upon arrival, intrigue overrode his disorientation.

Before him sprawled a realm unlike any he'd witnessed. At a glance, it thrummed with primordial vitality: a tapestry of bioluminescent flora, teeming with vibrant colors and alien lifeforms, all suffused by a spiritual pressure dense enough to liquefy lesser Sovereigns.

Rainbows arced across the horizon, their radiance so potent that even fleeting eye contact threatened to shatter the psyche of a Grandmaster.

Above, a cerulean sky—deceptively serene—gazed back, its daytime canvas pierced by the distant glint of distant stars.

The sensory assault deepened. Pristine birdsong mingled with the rush of untouched rivers, a symphony of simplicity that clashed with his memory of war-torn cities and screeching machinery.

An uncanny calm settled over Minos, a déjà vu so visceral it briefly dissolved his guarded posture.

His hands unclenched from the throne's armrests; his pulse steadied. A breath of laughter escaped him, his divine features softening into a beatific smile.

Then it hit—a full-body shiver that sharpened his focus, compressing recent chaos into crystalline clarity. "A fusion of Hell and the Upper Realm," he murmured to the air.

"Incorrect," droned the throne, its tone a cold baritone. "Both realms are progeny of the Ancestral Realm. The magi cosmic records confirm this. But there's… an additive in the equation."

"The Violet Dimension." Minos didn't hesitate.

"The dimension you visited represented almost the entire rest of that equation." The throne replied in its indifferent, steady tone, before showing a part of this gigantic ancient dimension to its master. "Observe the northwest quadrant. Events will now accelerate."

Minos' gaze snapped to the coordinates. A lone figure, face shrouded beneath layered combat gear, streaked across the sky—a dozen pursuers closing in like hunters cornering prey.

Minos' jaw fell slack, his eyes stretching wide—the instinctive gape of a mortal glimpsing divine wrath.

What unfurled before him wasn't merely a cultivator conflict, but a conflict of Absolute-level auras. Level 130. Not just one, but seven walking apocalypses of bleeding pressure that made spacetime itself whimper!

He'd see Devil Ritter's—level 129 True Celestial ferocity—but this… This was like comparing a candle's flicker to a supernova. The gap yawned wider than cosmos between stars!

Yet shock numbed neither his focus nor his dread as the hunt crescendoed.

The fugitive pivoted through serpentine evasion patterns, trading cataclysmic blows that scattered nebulae-like energy residue.

Minos imagined he would see the individual being chased overpowered and perhaps killed in the next few moments. His ability to predict the future would never work in a past rendered by a tool he didn't yet understand, so he could only assess the situation without his skills.

But, then, he saw two of the six individuals in pursuit betray the group and ally themselves with the fugitive.

Two Absolutes fractured formation seals in perfect synchrony, their allegiance flipping faster than a coin midair.

Six pursuers halved to two in less than a heartbeat, their disintegrating essence painting a brief supernova across the void.

'Impossible!' he thought as his lips were sealed, his eyes still focused on the developing combat.

The throne said nothing to its master, despite listening to his thoughts.

"SHULONG!" roared a surviving pursuer, his voice shredding reality into vibrating ribbons. "You traitor! I curse you! "The Life and Death Tree will punish you eternally for breaking the Law of Dawn Peak!"

The fugitive's hood fell. Shulong's face emerged—porcelain-perfect, yet crackling with corruption veins. His laugh was a serrated thing. "The Dawn Peak's laws?" He spat phlegm blazing with annihilative runes. "Tian Wang, you old fool. I will bring a new era to the Ancestral Realm. With the powers of the Life and Death Tree, I will control everything! If you don't accept progress, then die here!"

Space ruptured. A root thicker than planetary cores erupted—obsidian, glistening with stolen soul-dew—and cleaved toward Tian Wang. No artful strike. This was genocide given form.

At first glance, the cultivation of these beings seemed similar. But when the one called Shulong moved against Tian Wang, Minos noticed it was no longer a fight.

Tian Wang's ally disintegrated, his essence dissolving into fractal ash as he shielded his comrade—a futile act of loyalty. He then met Shulong's assault head-on, muscles straining against forces that warped causality itself. For a heartbeat, Tian Wang's defiant snarl hung suspended… then purity extinguished him.

"Dawn Peak's thrones are ours to claim," crooned the first traitor, ripping off her mask. Her beauty stabbed like a blade: symmetrical, flawless, wrong.

"Prayers to the Tree will rot unsung now," added the second, his face a parody of celestial youth. Their laughter curdled the air.

The sky split. A spiderweb of black lightning flashed across the sky, instantly shrouding the land in darkness. Space fractured like overstressed glass, cracks birthing hungering voids that gulped down mountains, rivers, light itself. The victors' triumphant poses faltered—their bodies desiccating, skin mottling charcoal-black as if dipped in primordial tar. Anchors in a sinking cosmos, they plummeted into the abyss.

Once again, Minos contorted his facial muscles as he tried to read the situation. An instant later, he watched as the beings of this absolute dimension died one after the other, some taken by surprise, others still fighting despite the obvious disadvantage.

"Absolutes are immortal," intoned the throne, its voice a grindstone on bone. "But eternity is a mosaic. Shatter its tiles, scatter its fragments… and what remains? You can't destroy it. But it is possible to separate its pieces and leave it incomplete. Be careful, master. Your journey is far from over than you think." The seat's shell pulsed, reflecting the dying stars.

Minos looked away momentarily, seeing part of the throne and understanding the answer to the question he had asked a moment before.

The throne moved forward. "I don't know what happened to those immortals, nor how they influenced fate until the present when you awoke me. But it is a fact that part of the Absolutes betrayed the law and order of the Ancestral Realm. They poisoned the Life and Death Tree and let their greed mutilate the home of the Absolutes, the Dawn Peak. But instead, they splintered the Ancestral Realm into Hell and the Upper Realm, mainly.

Now history's pendulum swings again. Reincarnation's Wheels rust. Factions fracture the Upper Realm... You must mend what they shattered—or drown in their cycle."

When the throne ended, the time and space around them took them away from this decisive moment in the dimensional reality of the present time. Minos found himself flying on the throne just as fast as before, but now more serious and worried, considering the full weight of the throne's words.

"Prepare yourself." The throne's edge sharpened. "The Upper Realm's gates await. From now on, everything will depend on you!"