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

Chapter 97: Ancient Being?!

BOOM!!!

The void beneath his feet exploded, and his figure vanished, appearing before a fleeing deity.

The God’s pupils contracted violently.

"You-"

A pale sword light flashed, and his voice stopped abruptly.

A thin line appeared across his body, and the next moment, his divine form split into two.

Golden blood scattered throughout the void before freezing into countless crystals.

They shattered moments later.

Another God screamed in horror.

"Monster!"

He raised both hands, and hundreds of divine seals appeared around him.

Each one contained enough power to erase an entire civilization.

Yet Amon simply walked forward.

Step.

Step.

Step.

Every seal quietly fell apart before his arrival.

The divine laws maintaining them collapsed on their own.

Azrael descended, and a dazed look appeared on the face of the God before he disappeared.

Slash.

Not even his ashes remained.

One after another...

Gods fell.

The void was painted gold.

Broken thrones floated endlessly through the darkness.

Ancient crowns shattered beneath Amon’s footsteps.

Every slash of Azrael carried another era to its end.

Every movement extinguished another existence that had ruled for countless millennia.

The surviving Gods finally understood.

This wasn’t battle.

It was slaughter.

The elderly God who had once offered Amon a place amongst them stared blankly.

His weathered face no longer carried dignity.

Only despair.

"How..."

"How can a lower lifeform possess such power..."

He couldn’t understand.

Countless eras had passed.

Countless civilizations had risen.

Countless heroes had struggled.

Yet none had ever reached this place.

None had ever threatened Heaven itself.

But now...

One man stood before them.

And Heaven was bleeding.

BOOOOOOM!!!

Azrael swept horizontally.

A crescent sword light expanded endlessly.

Dozens of Gods were caught within it.

Their divine bodies cracked, and their authorities collapsed.

Their souls were severed, and they vanished completely.

The surrounding worlds trembled repeatedly.

Several civilizations looked toward their heavens.

For reasons they couldn’t understand...

Their stars were disappearing.

The concepts governing their worlds were collapsing.

Because the Gods who maintained them...

Were dying.

Amon walked forward calmly through the void at an even pace.

Every step echoed throughout the void.

Every step caused another throne to fracture.

His breathing had become uneven.

Blood continuously flowed beneath Ataroth’s Mask.

His body had long surpassed its limits.

Yet he continued.

His gaze never shifted.

Only forward.

Only toward the remaining Gods.

One beautiful goddess turned around. Her divine face was filled with panic.

"No..."

"Stay away..."

She fled desperately, however, Amon just raised Azrael.

The sword trembled softly, then descended.

At that exact moment... everything stopped.

The sword froze.

The flowing blood became motionless.

And the drifting fragments of broken thrones halted in midair.

The collapsing worlds stopped trembling.

Even the fleeing Gods found themselves unable to move.

Silence.

Absolute silence.

Amon frowned.

For the first time since entering this place...

His body refused to obey him.

No.

It wasn’t refusal.

It was suppression.

A suppression so absolute that even his thoughts seemed to slow.

Then...

A soft sound echoed throughout the endless void.

Step.

Step.

Step.

Someone was walking.

Every step seemed ordinary.

Yet each one caused countless worlds to brighten slightly.

Stars that had already gone dark quietly reignited.

Broken divine laws silently restored themselves.

The endless void, stained by slaughter, became strangely tranquil.

The remaining Gods lowered their heads.

None dared raise their eyes, nor dared to speak, not because they didn’t want to, but because they simply couldn’t.

Gradually...

She appeared.

She wore regal training robes unlike anything Amon had ever seen.

They were simple in design, yet every thread seemed woven from flowing starlight.

Silver and deep midnight blue intertwined naturally, as though the night sky itself had been crafted into clothing.

Golden patterns resembling ancient constellations spread across the sleeves.

They shifted continuously.

Forming worlds.

Creating galaxies.

Giving birth to stars.

Only to quietly fade and begin again.

Around her waist rested an ordinary jade belt.

Yet every broken divine law in the surrounding void instinctively revolved around it.

Her long black hair flowed endlessly behind her.

Within it...

Tiny stars drifted peacefully.

Each strand reflected countless universes.

Each movement caused faint rivers of light to ripple through the darkness.

Her skin was flawless.

Not beautiful in the ordinary sense.

But perfect.

The kind of perfection that made language itself seem inadequate.

Her features possessed no arrogance or coldness.

Only a calm elegance that naturally caused all existence to lower itself before her.

Between her eyebrows...

A single star quietly rested.

It wasn’t a mark, nor was it an ornament.

It was an actual star, endlessly rotating and endlessly shining.

Its gentle radiance illuminated hundreds of worlds.

Even the shattered thrones around her silently restored themselves before crumbling once more, unable to endure her presence.

She walked past the rivers of divine blood, and the blood quietly transformed into blooming flowers.

She walked past the fragments of broken authority.

They became drifting starlight.

Finally...

She stopped before Amon.

The distance between them gradually shortened.

One step.

Another.

Until...

Only a few inches remained between them.

She was so close that the gentle warmth of her breathing brushed lightly against the skin beneath Ataroth’s Mask.

A faint fragrance lingered around her.

It wasn’t the scent of flowers, nor was it the scent of nature. Rather, it seemed to be the quiet smell of the universe after countless stars had been born.

Her gaze calmly observed Amon before it drifted toward Azrael for a few seconds, then returned to his eyes.

The endless void remained silent as tens of Gods watched with lowered heads.

No one dared interrupt.

After what felt like an eternity...

The corner of her lips lifted ever so slightly.

The expression was so subtle that even galaxies seemed to brighten.

Then...

In a light, almost curious tone...

She spoke.

"You..."

Her eyes rested quietly upon Amon.

"...have the scent of my sister."

Amon stared at the lady in front of him, subconsciously feeling a little terrified inwardly.

Not because he was scared of the lady. However, instinctively, it was as though this was the only emotion he was supposed to have.

Staring at the lady blankly, he was startled by her words.

He couldn’t begin to imagine how strong she was.

Vaguely, he felt that even if the lady wanted to kill him, his danger sense wouldn’t be triggered in the slightest, and he would lose his life.

The unknown physique would be unable to save him, and so would everything else.

’How’s this possible?’ Amon felt a sense of helplessness.

He had gained sufficient strength to survive the calamity, and now this mysterious lady had arrived.

’Could her sister be the Time Witch?’

Having an ability related to time was absurd, so Amon felt that only Mira could be connected to such an entity.

The lady continued staring at him, waiting for his reply.

"It seems you don’t know who my..."

"That’s enough, sister."

Before she could finish her words, a cold voice interrupted her.

Strangely, someone else was able to move in this endless void despite the suppression brought about by the mysterious entity.

Amon turned his head in the direction of the figure who had appeared.

He vaguely recalled the voice, but couldn’t remember where he’d heard it.

However, the moment his gaze landed on the figure, he was startled and also dumbfounded.