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The being began walking in the opposite direction, its footsteps growing quieter with each stride. The oppressive weight of its presence began to lift, the suffocating terror that had gripped her throat starting to ease. She could breathe again. She could think again.
"It's over," she whispered to herself, her various voices overlapping in a cacophony of relief. "I'm safe. I'm actually safe."
She allowed herself to relax, just slightly. Her remaining hand pressed against the obsidian to steady herself as waves of exhaustion crashed over her. The divine essence in her core flickered weakly, already beginning the slow process of regeneration. She would need time, days perhaps, but she would recover. She would survive.
Then she heard it.
Laughter.
Low and rich, like water flowing over stones in a deep cave. The sound came from directly in front of her.
Her eyes snapped up, and her breath caught in her throat.
The being stood there, less than a meter away, looking down at her with its eyeless masks. It hadn't walked back. It hadn't turned around. It had simply appeared, as if the distance between them had been a suggestion rather than a reality.
The hope that had bloomed in her chest withered and died in an instant, replaced by a terror so profound it made her previous fear seem like mild concern. The being had let her feel safe. It had given her that moment of relief, that brief respite from horror, just so it could watch her face as that safety was revealed to be an illusion.
It had done this for entertainment.
"No," she whimpered, all her mouths speaking in unison. "No, please, no."
"No, don't come! Don't come!" The avatar of the skin god's voice cracked across the obsidian, a chorus of terror that made the volcanic glass vibrate sympathetically. Her various mouths opened and closed in different rhythms, creating a discordant symphony of fear.
But the being continued its approach. Time seemed to bend around it, making each step cover impossible distances while moving with dreamlike slowness. The avatar could feel her divine essence recoiling, every instinct telling her to run, to hide, to cease existing rather than face whatever this thing represented.
When it was close enough for her to see the details of its transformation, her terror transformed into something deeper. Recognition.
"What the fuck are you?" she shrieked, her divine senses reeling as they tried to process what stood before her. The information came in waves, each revelation worse than the last. "You have a trace of divinity of that yellow fucker, and you have divinity of that fucking plague too."
The being tilted its three masks slightly, as if considering her words. The center mask, with its preserved human features frozen in eternal rage, seemed to focus on her with particular intensity.
"But that's not the worst part," the avatar continued, her voice rising to a hysterical pitch. "What is that main divinity you're holding? I've never seen it before. You're playing with it like it was a toy, like it means nothing!"
Her divine perception could see the layers of power wrapped around the being like clothing. Minor laws of disease and corruption, yes, but underneath them was something vast and alien. A major law that predated her understanding of how the universe worked.
"To possess more than two minor laws and one major law..." she whispered, the implications hitting her like physical blows. "You're like an avatar of the Great Old Ones! Fuck! Why are you in this realm? Why are you inside of a human body?"
The being had reached her now. It stood over her cowering form, six arms hanging at its sides like the legs of some cosmic spider. Up close, she could see the intricate details of its transformation. The bone and sinew wrapped around its limbs, the way its robes seemed to contain more space than they should, the impossible geometry of its wing-like structures.
Two of its hands reached down and grasped her by the legs. The touch sent shockwaves through her divine essence, and she felt herself being lifted as easily as a child's doll. Her various forms dangled helplessly in its grip, utterly powerless despite millennia of accumulated divine authority.
"This isn't fair!" she screamed, her voices creating feedback loops of terror that echoed across the obsidian plain. "I'm a god! You can't just treat me like some mortal prey! I have rights! I have cosmic authority!"
The being's center mask began to open. What lay beneath wasn't a mouth in any traditional sense, but rather a void lined with teeth that existed in too many dimensions. The teeth caught light from angles that shouldn't exist, creating geometric patterns that made reality weep.
"Wait, wait, WAIT!" The avatar's panic reached new heights as she realized what was about to happen. "This is fucking unfair! I didn't do anything to you! I was just toying with a human named Ren Hector! I didn't even interfere with your hunt!"
The being brought her left leg toward that impossible maw. The avatar could feel the gravitational pull of whatever lay beyond those teeth, as if she was being drawn toward a black hole disguised as a mouth.
"You bastard! You absolute fucking bastard!" she screamed as the teeth closed around her thigh. The sensation was indescribable. Not just pain, but the fundamental unmaking of her divine essence. Each tooth that pierced her flesh also pierced the conceptual framework that allowed her to exist as a god.
The being chewed slowly, methodically. Divine flesh parted like butter under its impossible anatomy, bone cracking with sounds like breaking crystal mixed with dying stars. The taste seemed to please it, or at least satisfy some cosmic hunger that normal food could never touch.
"This isn't how gods are supposed to die!" she screamed through the agony. "This isn't fair! I have worshippers! I have temples! People pray to me every day! You can't just end that because you're hungry!"
But the being continued its feast. Another bite. More divine flesh disappeared into that dimensional maw. The avatar's leg was being consumed piece by piece, each bite sending waves of unimaginable pain through her consciousness while simultaneously erasing her connection to the cosmic order.
"I'll curse you! I'll curse your bloodline for a thousand generations!" she raged, her various mouths frothing with divine spittle. "You think you can just eat a god and get away with it? You think the universe won't notice? Other gods will come for you!"
The being showed no reaction to her threats. It finished with her leg and moved to her arm, beginning the same methodical process. The teeth found new angles of attack, new ways to unmake her existence bite by bite.
"This is wrong! This violates every cosmic law!" she shrieked as her arm disappeared into that void mouth.
"Gods don't get eaten by random monsters! There are rules! There are protocols! I demand justice! I demand a fair trial!"
Her words echoed across the obsidian plain, but the only response was the continued sound of chewing. The being seemed to be savoring each bite, taking its time to properly digest the divine essence before moving on to the next piece.
"Please! Please, I'll do anything!" Her voice became increasingly desperate as more of her body disappeared. "I'll worship you! I'll give you all my followers! I'll teach you secrets of divinity! Just don't eat me! Anything but this!"
But the being was beyond negotiation. Arm, then torso, each bite accompanied by the skin god's increasingly frantic screams and curses. Her divine power meant nothing here. Her immortality was just prolonging her suffering, forcing her to remain conscious as her very essence was consumed.
"I was a skin goddess!" she wailed as her torso began to disappear. The obsidian plain absorbed her cries, the volcanic glass ringing like a funeral bell with each note of her anguish. The being remained unmoved, focused entirely on its meal with the single minded dedication of a force of nature.
Finally, only her head remained, held delicately between two of the being's fingers. Her eyes were wide with a mixture of terror and rage, her mouth opening and closing as she struggled to find words that might somehow change her fate.
"You think this ends with me?" she gasped, her voice barely a whisper now. "You think you can just eat your way through the pantheon without consequences? There are beings in this universe that make gods look like insects. When they notice what you've done..."
The being brought her head closer to its center mask, studying her with those impossible features. For a moment, she thought she saw something almost human in its expression. Recognition, perhaps. Or maybe just curiosity about her final words.
"I hope you get consumed by madness, you fu—"
The being bit down. The avatar's final curse was cut short as her head disappeared into that dimensional maw. The being chewed thoughtfully, taking time to savor the last traces of her divine essence, then swallowed.
Silence returned to the obsidian plain. The only sound was the gentle tinkling of volcanic glass settling after the vibrations of the avatar's final screams.
But the quiet didn't last long.
Footsteps echoed across the obsidian, rapid and urgent. Running footsteps that spoke of desperation and determination in equal measure.
Old Hans appeared over a ridge of volcanic glass, his breathing heavy but controlled. He carried Henry and Irene on his back like sacks of grain, their unconscious forms secured with makeshift bindings torn from his own clothing. But Hans himself looked completely different.
Where once he had been a weathered man in his sixties, gray haired and lined with age, now he appeared to be in his late thirties. His hair was darker, shot through with streaks of silver rather than completely gray. His skin was smoother, his movements more fluid and powerful. The change was so dramatic that he looked like his own son rather than himself.
His aura was different too. Before, he had carried the steady presence of a veteran A rank hunter. Now power radiated from him like heat from a forge. He had advanced to S rank while they were fighting, directly consuming a calamity core in a desperate gamble to gain enough strength to help his teammates.
"Hey, Mr. Nox!" he shouted across the obsidian plain, his voice carrying farther than it should have. "Are you still there? It's Hans! We made it out alive!"
The being turned toward Hans with the smooth precision of a clockwork mechanism. All six of its arms shifted slightly, adjusting its balance as it focused its attention on this new arrival.
"Arghhh!" Hans immediately doubled over, blood streaming from his eyes and ears. The pressure was overwhelming, like having his brain squeezed in a vice made of pure malevolence. He dropped Henry and Irene without ceremony, instinctively covering his face and avoiding the being's direct gaze.
Even through his enhanced S rank constitution, the entity's attention was crushing his mind. His newly gained power meant nothing against whatever this thing represented. He felt his thoughts beginning to fracture under the strain.
Then a phrase popped into his head, something he had once seen written in ancient scrolls found in a gate years ago: Do not look directly at god.
The words carried weight beyond their simple meaning. They were a warning, a piece of cosmic wisdom left by someone who had learned this lesson the hard way. Hans felt his whole body paralyze as the truth of those words sank in.
But he still managed to force words through his blood-filled mouth: "Mr. Nox! I know we're not on the best friend terms, but we are comrades who faced death together, right? Please come to your senses!"
The being began walking toward them, its movement across the obsidian creating a rhythm like a funeral march. Each step sent fresh cracks through the volcanic glass, and Hans could feel the pressure in his brain building with every footfall.
Hans felt his nose beginning to bleed, adding to the rivers of blood already flowing from his eyes and ears. But desperation gave him strength. He forced himself to look directly at the being and shouted with everything he had left: "You are not a monster, Nox! You are a hunter! Snap out of it!"
The being stopped walking.
For a moment, Hans thought he had succeeded. The entity stood motionless on the obsidian plain, its three masks tilted slightly as if listening to something only it could hear. Hope bloomed in Hans's chest like a flower in spring.
"I knew you would come ba—"
But he didn't finish his sentence.
Because he saw the bone sword rising in one of the being's hands, its edge catching the strange light of this realm. The weapon moved with deliberate precision, aimed directly at his heart.
Ha, so that's it, Hans thought, a strange calm settling over him. I risked my life to become an S-rank hunter for nothing. Now I'm going to die a meaningless death, and Henry and Irene will follow right after me.
The sword descended like a falling star.
CLANK!
The sound echoed across the obsidian plain like a bell tolling. The sword of pure horror had struck something and stopped in its tracks, the impact sending shockwaves through the volcanic glass that made the entire realm ring like a tuning fork.
The thing that had blocked the sword was a blue blade crackling with lightning. Electric arcs danced along its edge like living creatures, and the air around it hummed with barely contained energy. The blue sword held the bone weapon motionless, neither giving ground.
Hans looked back over his shoulder, his enhanced senses picking up something that shouldn't be possible.
There was a small hole torn in the fabric of space itself, no bigger than a coin. But even as he watched, hairline cracks began to spread from that point in a perfect spiderweb pattern. The cracks moved with precision, following lines of force that existed beyond normal geometry.
Then the space cracked entirely, reality parting like curtains to reveal what lay beyond.
Through the spatial tear stepped a young man in a black Daoist robe. His appearance was so perfect it seemed almost artificial, like a master sculptor's ideal of human beauty rendered in living flesh. His skin was flawless, unmarked by sun or wind or time. His face carried the kind of handsomeness that transcended simple physical attraction and moved into the realm of the supernatural.
He walked gracefully out of the spatial tear, his movements flowing like water finding its level. Each step was perfectly placed, perfectly balanced, as if he had practiced this entrance for centuries. The black fabric of his robes moved with him like liquid shadow, decorated with silver embroidery that seemed to shift and change when viewed from different angles.
"Sorry, my dear guild member, for my late arrival," he said, his voice carrying the weight of mountains and the gentleness of spring rain. The words seemed to resonate not just in the air, but in the obsidian beneath their feet and the strange sky above their heads.
The blue sword in his hand pulsed with power that seemed to rival the being's bone blade. Lightning continued to dance along its edge, but now the arcs formed complex patterns that spoke of mastery over fundamental forces.
"You are safe now," he continued, his eyes meeting Hans's with a warmth that seemed to push back against the cosmic horror that had been crushing his mind. "I'm here."
Lu Changcheng, Daoist Tribulation Transcendant, had arrived.