Marvel With Zanpakutou

Chapter 814: This Hatred Will Endure Eternally!

"So, do you want to try?"

Tawil At-U’mr’s voice was elusive, like the devil in Faust, tempting one into damnation: "Whether it’s the past, present, or future—containing all the ultimate answers of existence—thoughts that surpass all logic and knowledge from the infinite dimensions of the universe, whatever you wish to know, stepping through this gate will easily reveal it all."

All the answers, the ultimate truth of everything.

It was an offer that would be hard for anyone, including Lorde, to resist.

A powerful urge surged within him for a moment, tempting him to step through the gate and seek his answers.

There were so many things he wanted to know—so many that he couldn’t even sort them out all at once.

What was the truth behind the Spirit King Creation System? Did it come from the original Spirit King? What role did he play in it?

What was the truth behind the Heavenly War? Where were the Twin Flowers? Why had the dead God helped him?

What was the connection between the TVA’s mentioned timeline chaos and him?

Why would his future self, the Spirit King, become that way?

These questions weighed on him like mountains, sometimes so heavy that breathing became hard.

Having been pushed forward step by step to where he stood now, there were far too many answers he sought.

Given the opportunity to know all the answers, many would be willing to sacrifice anything, even their lives. As the old saying goes, "To hear the Way in the morning is to be content to die in the evening." It referred to moments like this.

But unfortunately... he could not do it.

The answers were important, but he was not willing to become a martyr for them.

"I... refuse."

Lorde sighed as if expelling all the pent-up frustration within him: "I will find my own answers, no matter how difficult the process. Even if the truth I find isn’t what I want, I won’t step through that door."

"If you’re afraid that something beyond the door will threaten your life, you can rest assured," Tawil At-U’mr’s ghostly silhouette drifted closer, its voice filled with temptation. "There is no danger—for you."

Lorde still shook his head, the coldness in his eyes making it clear he rejected the offer.

"I don’t understand! I can’t understand!"

Tawil At-U’mr’s silhouette quivered with rage, expanding into an enormous, mountain-like form that radiated overwhelming pressure. "A faster path lies before you, the chance to know all the answers of the universe, yet you refuse? Why?!"

"The reason is simple."

Lorde raised his arm slowly, the black blade in his hand swirling with killing intent as he pointed at Tawil At-U’mr. "I don’t intend to trust you, nor do I plan to let you leave here alive. The so-called ’answers’... aren’t important right now."

"You... will regret this!"

Tawil At-U’mr’s voice held a distinct threat. "If you pass up this opportunity, you may regret it for the rest of your life."

"And so what?"

Lorde’s eyes glinted with determination.

Perhaps it was as Tawil At-U’mr said: he might lose much if he didn’t take this opportunity and regret it for the rest of his life.

But even if he never found the answers, his resolve wouldn’t waver—not in his mission to kill the creature before him.

"LORDE!!!"

Tawil At-U’mr roared in fury, shedding its mask of kindness and benevolence and transforming into a monstrous beast with gaping jaws dripping with foul-smelling saliva. The dark, sinister gray mist exploded into a storm of energy, the pressure crashing down like a tidal wave.

The overwhelming force pushed Lorde back dozens of meters.

When he raised his head again, he saw that Tawil At-U’mr had risen from its stone throne. Its once phantom-like form condensed into a massive entity—a towering figure shrouded in a gray and white robe.

"I have never encountered such a fool as you."

Tawil At-U’mr glared down at Lorde. "The chance to grasp the truth of everything lies before you, and yet you give it up for a woman?"

For a brief moment, silence filled the air.

Then Lorde’s eyes ignited like molten gold, releasing a flood of spiritual pressure that roared like thunder. The ground around them trembled and cracked, deep fissures tearing through the rocky walls of the underground cavern.

The earth seemed on the verge of collapse, and the cavern would soon be buried beneath it.

"Are you done talking?"

Lorde’s golden eyes burned like twin suns in the thick mist.

Their gazes locked, and the force of their clashing spiritual energies sent shockwaves through the air. The destruction of the cavern accelerated, with massive stones crashing down. Magma spewed from the earth’s core, filling the air with the stench of sulfur.

Tawil At-U’mr’s heart trembled—the sight of this man filled it with an inexplicable sense of dread.

Different from what he had seen before, the fury in Lorde’s eyes was now concealed, replaced by a cold indifference that carried no unnecessary emotions, as if his eyes held the infinite void of the cosmos.

In the brief moment of hesitation, Lorde moved forward, his black blade slicing through the air with force.

Yachiru Swordsmanship – Yellow Springs!

He poured all his power into the strike.

As Lorde stepped forward, spiritual pressure surged like a blazing aurora, like stars falling from the sky—the terrifying energy coiled around his black blade, radiating overwhelming killing intent.

Clang!!!

The black blade cut through everything before it, unleashing a wind storm.

It was as if a thousand blades cried out in unison. The strike cleaved the cavern for thousands of meters, creating a rift extending from the underground depths to the surface.

Tawil At-U’mr was split in two.

But the next moment, the entity reformed and let out a howl of rage, its eerie voice like the screams of thousands of souls, a shrill noise that felt like a red-hot iron being driven into the brain.

"You—will die!"

Tawil At-U’mr, who had never been wounded, extended an arm beneath its gray robe. The arm was covered in tightly packed, scale-like plates of bone, an ash-gray hue. Upon closer inspection, there were barnacle-like holes between the scales.

"We meet again... Broken God!"

Lorde froze momentarily at the sight of the arm before exhaling slowly. "Now, take the gift I’ve prepared just for you."

Buzz—

The skies seemed to shift as the winds howled.

An icy, sorrowful aura filled the air, a grief so intense that it made one want to weep.

When hatred reaches its peak, it gives birth to profound sorrow.

It was both an emotion and a form of swordsmanship—a reflection of his soul.

"This strike is for Nekhilia."

Lorde’s voice echoed as his blade moved, accompanied by a sweeping sword intent that shook the heavens. "This hatred will last forever, and I will not return until the gods are slain!"