Primordial Awakening: They Targeted My Daughter, I Became The Butcher!

Chapter 94: Demi-gods Descend

Amon glanced at his surroundings.

The skies were torn apart, as though the very fabric of space had abandoned Earth completely.

Lifting his gaze, he watched countless monsters begin pouring from the crimson rifts.

They were all SSS-rank creatures.

Staring into the bloodied heavens, Amon’s gaze remained eerily calm.

The Winter Frost Blade trembled slightly in his grasp.

Back at home, Kayla continued dialing her husband’s number, her heart in complete turmoil as she held little Ciara tightly in her arms.

She couldn’t understand where he had gone at a time like this.

The skies were stained red and filled with endless void.

It was as though the end of the world had finally arrived, yet at this crucial moment, the man she loved the most wasn’t by her side.

She could hardly accept it.

Her heart pounded endlessly as countless thoughts flashed through her mind.

What if something had happened to him?

Meanwhile, the man she was desperately worried about stood high in the skies, facing the countless monsters pouring into the world.

"Azrael..."

Amon called out softly.

The Winter Frost Blade answered with a faint tremble.

Ever since he had upgraded the Netherworld Sword Technique to the Mythical Primordial level, he had never used any form above the ninth.

Now, standing before thousands of SSS-rank creatures, Amon felt it was finally time.

Azrael released gentle sword hums, seemingly excited for the slaughter that was about to begin.

"Gods..."

Amon roared toward the heavens, his voice thundering beneath the Ataroth Mask as though it could pierce reality itself and reach the beings watching beyond.

"I will slaughter you all today!!!"

The instant his words fell, he raised Azrael and slashed forward.

BANG!!!

’God Slaying Sword Art...’

The tenth form of the Netherworld Sword Technique descended.

Instantly, the surrounding space froze before slowly beginning to disintegrate bit by bit.

A crack spread across the frozen void.

Then another.

And another.

The world seemed to shatter like fragile glass as the sword intent hidden within the strike erupted completely.

"...Tenth Form."

"Heaven’s Funeral."

BOOM!!!

A crescent wave of pale blue sword light swept across the heavens.

Wherever it passed, existence itself ceased.

The incoming SSS-rank monsters didn’t even have time to roar before they were swallowed by the sword light.

Their flesh froze and their blood crystallized.

Their souls became trapped within an endless winter.

Then...

They shattered.

Millions of icy fragments glittered beneath the blood-red sky before disappearing into nothingness.

Thousands of SSS-rank creatures had been erased by a single strike.

Yet Amon’s expression never changed.

Because the rift overhead was still expanding.

More monsters continued emerging.

The calamity Earth faced had only just begun.

From the rift emerged gigantic serpents whose bodies stretched across kilometers.

Winged abominations covered in countless eyes.

Titanic beasts carrying entire mountain ranges upon their backs.

And among them...

Several figures slowly stepped forward.

They possessed humanoid forms clad in golden armor.

Their eyes shone with divine radiance, and every one of them carried an aura countless times more terrifying than the SSS-rank monsters.

They were demigods.

The true vanguard.

The protectors of balance had finally arrived.

They were the beings ordained to maintain the order of the world.

Over countless eras, whenever humanity produced someone capable of defeating the first calamity in the form of SSS-rank creatures, they would descend and suppress mankind, bringing an end to that generation.

One of them looked down upon Amon with complete indifference.

"A mortal dares challenge the will of the Gods?"

Having witnessed the destruction of countless civilizations, they no longer cared for human lives.

Nor did they care what thoughts Amon carried within his heart.

In their eyes, there was no possibility of survival beneath their combined assault.

Another demigod beside him laughed softly.

"So this is the anomaly of this era?"

"Where’s that crippled old man who refuses to end his life despite his time having passed?"

Amon knew they were referring to the Watcher.

He was certain the old man was witnessing everything with helplessness, already convinced there was no way he could survive the calamity.

However, Amon had never cared what anyone thought of him.

The only thing he wished to protect...

Was his wife.

And his daughter.

Amon slowly lowered Azrael.

His silver hair danced amidst the chaotic spatial currents.

Beneath Ataroth’s Mask, the corners of his lips curled upward.

"You talk too much."

The divine beings frowned.

At that moment, Azrael released a deafening sword cry.

It was no longer excitement.

It was hunger.

An insatiable desire to drink divine blood.

Amon slowly raised the blade once more.

The terrifying aura surrounding him surged wildly.

Layers upon layers of sword intent gathered behind his back.

One sword.

Ten swords.

A hundred swords.

A thousand swords.

Ten thousand swords.

Every sword was formed entirely from condensed death energy and endless frost.

The atmosphere itself began collapsing.

The expressions of the demigods finally changed.

"Impossible..."

"That aura..."

"This is... the power of a god?!"

Their voices were filled with panic.

They had only ever sensed such terrifying strength from the High Lord who had ordered them to descend into these lower worlds for entertainment.

Never in their wildest imagination had they believed someone born on a lower planet could reach such a level.

How had he become this powerful?

While alarm filled their hearts, Amon merely tilted his head slightly.

He pointed Azrael toward the heavens.

Toward the unseen beings watching beyond reality.

Toward the Gods themselves.

Then...

He smiled.

"God Slaying Sword Art."

"Eleventh Form..."

"The End of Heaven."

And for the first time since descending upon Earth...

The Gods felt fear.

Fear.

An emotion they had long since forgotten.

Ever since they transcended mortality and became beings entrusted with maintaining balance, nothing had ever managed to awaken such emotions within them.

Yet now...

Looking upon the silver-haired man standing beneath the collapsing heavens, holding a sword that seemed capable of severing destiny itself...

Their hearts trembled uncontrollably.

One demigod suddenly shouted,

"Stop him!"

"He cannot be allowed to complete that attack!"

The golden-armored figures moved instantly.

The serpent spanning thousands of kilometers opened its maw, releasing a torrent of corrosive void flames.

The winged abomination covered in countless eyes unleashed tens of thousands of scarlet beams.

The mountain-bearing titan raised its enormous hand and smashed downward, causing the surrounding dimensions to cave inward.

At the same time, the demigods attacked.

Divine chains descended from the heavens.

Golden spears condensed from pure laws.

Brilliant halos appeared behind their backs as they unleashed techniques capable of erasing entire civilizations.

Facing the overwhelming assault, Amon remained motionless.

Azrael vibrated violently.

The ten thousand swords floating behind him suddenly trembled.

Then...

One by one...

They disappeared.

Not because they had dissipated.

But because they had fused.

Ten thousand swords became one.

An enormous phantom sword appeared behind Amon.

Its blade pierced through the heavens.

Its tip extended beyond the torn rift.

Its hilt rested behind Amon’s figure.

It was impossible to determine its true length.

It was as though the sword possessed no boundaries.

As though it had existed before heaven itself was born.

As though it had been forged for one purpose alone.

To bring an end to gods.

Amon slowly swung Azrael downward.

"...Fall."

The phantom sword followed his movement.

The Eleventh Form was unleashed.

No dazzling lights appeared.

No explosions occurred.

No terrifying shockwaves spread across the world.

Everything simply...

Stopped.

Time ceased, space froze, and the divine chains halted midway.

The golden spears remained suspended in the air.

The void flames became completely motionless.

Even the countless cracks spreading across reality stopped expanding.

The demigods widened their eyes.

Their thoughts continued moving, but their bodies refused to obey.

"What..."

"What is happening?!"

"Move!"

"Why can’t I move?!"

Amon walked forward calmly.

Step.

Step.

Step.

Within this silent world, only he retained freedom.

He passed by the gigantic serpent.

Its pupils trembled with despair as Amon casually swung his sword.

A thin line appeared instantly across its neck.

Then he continued walking and executed another slash.

He passed the winged abomination.

Soon, he passed the mountain-bearing titan and released a third slash.

Finally, he stopped before the demigods.

Their faces were twisted with horror.

They wanted to beg.

They wanted to flee.

But they could do nothing.

Amon stood before the one who had mocked humanity.

The demigod’s eyes met his.

Beneath Ataroth’s Mask, Amon’s expression remained completely indifferent.

"You’ve witnessed countless eras."

"You’ve exterminated countless civilizations."

"You’ve called yourselves guardians of balance."

He slowly raised Azrael.

"But tell me..."

"Who gave you the right to decide whether humanity deserves to survive?"