Chapter 77: The Birth of Destruction

Jin walked through the bustling streets of World Guidance, observing how the world had settled into a peaceful rhythm. For the first time in a long while, people were living freely, unburdened by the weight of war and constant battle.

Kaelros had taken up a rather unexpected hobby—cooking. The once-ferocious warrior could now be seen in the kitchen, fumbling with ingredients, causing explosions of flour and spices. "Damn it, who knew cooking was harder than killing demons?" he muttered, glaring at a burnt piece of meat. Lillian, sitting at the table, smirked. "You're a lost cause, Kaelros. Just let me cook before you burn the entire place down."

Meanwhile, Lysander had opened a small shop, selling custom-made weapons. His store, 'The Crimson Edge,' had become famous among adventurers. "You want a sword that can cut through magic? Sure, but don't come crying if you can't handle it," he chuckled, tossing a newly forged blade to a stunned customer.

Rin, on the other hand, had taken up storytelling for children. Sitting in the town square, she weaved grand tales of Jin's battles, exaggerating details to make him sound even more legendary. "And then, Jin Shang, with a single swing, split the heavens apart—"

"Oi, I did no such thing!" Jin, who had just been passing by, cut in. The children turned to him, eyes shining with admiration. Rin grinned. "Oh? Are you saying you weren't cool enough to split the heavens?"

Jin sighed. "I'm not saying that."

Everyone was living in peace, something that seemed almost too good to be true.

Far away, beyond the lands of World Guidance, on a desolate island, a storm was brewing. Deep inside a cavern, a dark, unnatural lake churned restlessly. It was no ordinary body of water—thick, pulsating, like a living entity. And within its depths, something was growing.

A massive womb, grotesque and pulsating, hung in the liquid abyss. It swelled and convulsed, veins throbbing with an eerie glow. Then, in an instant, it started to rupture. Cracks formed across its surface, and a sickening squelch echoed through the cavern. A claw, long and jagged, burst through the membrane. Then another. The creature within forced itself out, tearing away the fleshy prison that had encased it.

The thing that emerged was beyond monstrous. Its form was humanoid, yet grotesquely elongated, as if something had stretched the very concept of a being beyond its limits. Its skin was pitch black, shifting like liquid shadows, yet solid like hardened stone. Its eyes—or what could be called eyes—were nothing but deep, glowing voids. When it opened its mouth, no teeth were visible, only an endless abyss that seemed to devour the very light around it.

Then, it screamed.

The sound wasn't something natural. It wasn't just a sound—it was a force, a presence, a shattering of reality itself. The very air twisted, and the cavern walls began to crack. The liquid abyss beneath it roiled violently, as if afraid of the thing it had birthed.

A shockwave of pure, oppressive aura exploded from the creature, reaching beyond the island, beyond the sea, spreading across the world. The sky darkened instantly, the stars themselves seemed to flicker in fear. The very climate of the planet was shifting under the mere presence of this entity.

From the depths of space, the shockwave could be seen, a pulse of raw malevolence, radiating outward, marking the arrival of something that should have never existed.

The creature's void-like eyes stared toward the distant lands of civilization, as if sensing the life that flourished there. It took a single step forward, and the ground beneath it withered, reduced to dust.

And then, it smiled.