The explosions were incessant, resounding throughout the Border Abyss.
The collapse of the Divine Country was like holding a delicate and beautiful porcelain high above one's head, then smashing it down heavily. Amidst the crisp shattering sounds, cries of wailing and screams were mixed in.
The explosion didn't cause much of a ripple in the real world, but if the people of Border Abyss looked up, they would notice that in the unchanging starry sky, at one corner of the sky, a brilliant splendor was blossoming.
Pop!
Apostle Arthur was flung out of the dimensional crevice like a dead dog, his body broken and battered. Strangely, most of the wounds on his body were like mosaics, elongated into long, blurred garbles, difficult to look at directly.
