Marvel With Zanpakutou

Chapter 813: The Ultimate Abyss

Lorde stood silently in front of the bronze door.

It wasn’t that he lacked the courage to open it, but rather that he was recalling a memory that was impossible to forget, a memory of which only fragments remained.

On that day, a girl had sacrificed herself without hesitation, igniting a faint spark of hope. In the dark wilderness of fear and the unknown, Nekhilia had burned the last drop of her blood like a candle, paving the way for Lorde’s future.

Nekhilia carved this path.

Now, as he walked upon his daughter’s bones, Lorde was prepared to raise the blade of god-slaying vengeance and ignite the flames of retribution.

If asked what he was willing to sacrifice for this cause, Lorde had only one answer: everything.

No matter how much the goodness within him had faded, no matter what he had to give up—including his very life—he was willing to pay any price to achieve his goal.

Even if that meant destroying an entire planet.

Black flames burned in his eyes, with no trace of hesitation, only determination to achieve his goal, no matter the cost.

Perhaps even Lorde didn’t realize it, but that dark will have deeply influenced him, fundamentally transforming his mindset.

The long black blade slowly emerged from its sheath, the sound echoing down the dim corridor.

Adora sensed the man’s intentions and let out a terrified scream. The Nova Force surged from her, emitting a brilliance like a sea of stars as if to stop the sinful act of this heretic.

Clang!

A sharp, violent gust swept through the air as the blade cleaved with unparalleled force.

There were no flashy techniques, no energy radiating outward—just pure, overwhelming power, as if capable of cleaving mountains and splitting the heavens. The killing intent was condensed to the extreme, manifesting in a crescent of blood-red light.

Adora couldn’t even approach him. The instant she reached out, the blade’s force crushed her into dust.

In the final moments of her life, fear, confusion, and horror flashed through her eyes before they settled into deep sorrow. She had witnessed the collapse of the bronze gate standing deep beneath the earth, the supposed dwelling of Xandar’s god. It crumbled in the face of that single strike.

And the heretic, holding the black blade, showed no reverence as he stepped into the supposed domain of a god.

After the collapse of the bronze door, only ruins remained.

Lorde walked forward, treading upon the debris and dust, moving deeper into the chamber.

Behind the door lay a thick gray fog, seemingly extending from an unknown source, carrying an eerie and loathsome aura. The fog swirled with a distant, low voice calling out, though the sound would disappear when one tried to listen closely.

As he ventured deeper into the fog, Lorde’s spiritual pressure became compressed by an invisible force, reduced to the smallest possible range.

Yet Lorde didn’t care about any of this. His steps didn’t falter as he advanced further into the fog. With each step, his spiritual pressure doubled, swelling into a tidal wave that collided with the surrounding space, creating thunderous roars.

After a few moments, he stopped, his gaze fixed on something ahead.

He saw a massive stone pedestal carved from rock through the mist. A blurry, ghost-like figure sat atop it, shrouded in a thick, grayish fabric.

"Welcome... to the Abyss."

Before Lorde could speak, the ghostly, ever-shifting figure spoke in an ethereal, natural, and unreal voice: "I have been waiting here for a long time, Lorde Carl."

"The Worldmind? Of course... it’s you."

Lorde’s expression remained emotionless, but his eyes flashed with cold killing intent. "So, the Nova Force, this so-called infinite energy—it was all part of your scheme."

Lorde had long suspected that Xandar’s stories were largely fabricated. The first Nova, Rhomann Dey, had likely been devoured. The ghostly figure before him, supposedly the Worldmind, was also the so-called "Broken God."

What the Xandarians believed to be Nova Force was nothing more than the power of the Broken God.

From the beginning, the Xandarians needed to have understood. They couldn’t control this infinite energy; it was the power of an evil, incomplete deity using their planet to restore itself.

"In a way, I am what you might call the ’Worldmind,’" the ghostly figure said, its voice calm. With a wave of its hand, a stone seat emerged from the mist. "You must have many questions. If you don’t mind, you can sit, and we can talk."

The stone seat was a smaller version of the grand pedestal the ghostly figure sat upon.

"No need."

Lorde’s blade was pointed toward the ground as he lowered his gaze. "This won’t take long—just a few words."

"Very well, since you insist."

The ghostly figure didn’t press further. "This should be our third meeting, though for you it might be the second. It would be disrespectful not to give my name, so allow me to introduce myself."

Lorde’s brow furrowed slightly, his calm expression breaking.

Before he could delve deeper into his thoughts, the ghostly figure continued, "You may call me Tawil At-U’mr. The first time you saw me, it was only my broken form, so I did not give you my name."

Tawil At-U’mr...

Lorde felt like he had heard that name before, though the thought quickly vanished, buried under a sea of other thoughts.

"It seems you’re not too interested in hearing more about me," said Tawil At-U’mr. Though faceless, it gave the impression that it was smirking, studying him with playful eyes.

"If I ask, will you answer?"

Lorde smirked, throwing the question back.

"As long as you are willing, I will tell you everything," Tawil At-U’mr replied. "Of course, everything comes with a price. If you’re willing to pay that price, I could even tell you the location of the Twin Flowers."

"And what would that price be?"

Lorde blurted the question before immediately regretting it, realizing he had grown too accustomed to such banter.

"All the answers lie beyond this door."

Tawil At-U’mr dispelled the fog with a gesture, revealing another massive bronze door deeper within the mist. The door was adorned with intricate, ancient patterns of rust and green, exuding an aura of antiquity and decay as if it had existed since immemorial.

Staring at the bronze door was like staring at the time itself.

Its very existence tells the story of the origin and end of time.

"That is... the Ultimate Abyss."

Tawil At-U’mr’s voice remained calm. "Once you step through this door, you will find all the answers you seek."