Chapter Thirty-Three: The Chunk of Flesh

Walking upon the dim earth, Chen Ming felt the oppressive atmosphere intensifying around him, prompting him to slow his pace. He glanced about—peculiarly, the deeper he ventured toward the core, the fewer traces of demonic beasts appeared, though their numbers and strength ought to have grown. Instead, only a pervasive, corrupting aura grew steadily stronger, gnawing relentlessly at his soul.

“Is it because of the Wolf King?” he wondered, uncertainty flickering in his mind.

The more powerful the creature, the more fiercely it guarded its territory—a trait common even among demon beasts, he supposed. Now that the Wolf King dwelled here, it was likely all other creatures had been driven away.

He recalled the demon beasts he’d encountered earlier, pondering the situation as he pressed onward. The environment now had utterly transformed. The earth radiated a searing heat, patches of tiny flames creeping across the ground, merging with demonic energy and constantly burning.

Ahead, twisted and terrifying plants began to appear, unlike any from the outside world, steeped in the aura of the Abyss. Chen Ming cautiously reached out to pluck a grass with sharp spines; as he snapped it, drops of black liquid dripped from the stem, corroding whatever they touched.

He frowned, purifying the toxin with a surge of divine power, then surveyed his surroundings. If one looked closely, countless decayed skeletons littered the area, stripped down to bare bone. Stepping forward, he saw most belonged to demon beasts, but some were humanoid—some quite fresh, bearing claw marks, likely dragged in by the wolves.

He walked, pausing now and then, until he reached a certain place.

A crimson liquid saturated the earth. There, a demonic wolf the size of a hill stood, unmoving, indifferent to Chen Ming’s arrival.

Here, an immense sorrow swept over him, flooding his heart. Chen Ming hesitated, gazing at the mountainous wolf, sensing that something was amiss.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Like the beat of a heart, a sound echoed in his mind, accompanied by an unfamiliar aura.

He was momentarily stupefied, his gaze confused as he stared at the Wolf King’s feet.

There, a massive brown lump of flesh pulsed—breathing, throbbing, as if it were still alive.

It stood there, exuding a terrifying presence that made one instinctively tremble, its years unknown.

Staring at the grotesque mass, Chen Ming’s eyes glazed over as he stepped forward.

The short distance was soon traversed; when he was just a few meters away, a repulsive tentacle extended from the flesh, reaching toward him.

But as it touched him, divine power flared from Chen Ming’s body, temporarily driving it back.

At that instant, deep within, a divine core suddenly shook, unleashing its power in an unprecedented surge. The divine energy burst forth, and a domain of nature unfurled quietly, briefly resisting the relentless pressure of the Abyssal domain around him. Clarity returned to Chen Ming’s eyes; sensing his situation, he acted without hesitation.

In the darkness of the Abyss, a ray of blazing sunlight appeared once more. Sensing the threat, waves of the world’s power enveloped him with unstoppable force, breaking free from the confinement.

He fled far away, glancing warily at the lump of flesh.

This time, his vision—previously veiled—was fully restored. Activating his divine core, Chen Ming peered ahead.

Dense, nearly tangible demonic energy manifested atop the flesh, faintly coalescing into a beast with three horns and six arms, covered in scales. As if sensing his scrutiny, it let out a furious roar; an eternal, inscrutable intent mixed with emotion surged violently into his mind.

He groaned, stumbling back several steps, his divine core spinning to barely dissolve and dispel the onslaught.

Feeling the strain within his divine core, Chen Ming’s heart tightened.

“It already possesses a trace of immortality. Whose flesh is this?”

He was secretly shaken, staring at the ominous mass, doubts churning in his heart.

Opposite him, as Chen Ming fully escaped, the previously nondescript lump of flesh suddenly revealed a grotesque blood-red maw, unleashing a deafening howl.

A tentacle twitched, and the Wolf King’s body expanded rapidly, its aura surging.

In moments, the Wolf King grew from a mere second rank to the third, then to the extreme limit of the third rank. Even so, the tentacle seemed dissatisfied, eager to push it further—but unable to do so.

Seeing this, Chen Ming breathed a little easier.

Suddenly, the Wolf King turned; its form had changed drastically. The once pale green eyes now burned crimson, its body sprouted jagged scales, and atop its head, three protrusions—three solitary horns—emerged.

It howled, unleashing a chilling, altered cry.

“It’s completely lost itself,” Chen Ming observed the madness and emptiness within its gaze, thinking to himself.

Before he could react further, the Wolf King lunged, arriving before him in an instant.

“So fast!” The thought barely registered as Chen Ming was sent flying, his soul battered and dispersed.

He reacted swiftly, his divine core whirling, a vast domain of nature sweeping forward to suppress the threat.

Sensing the natural domain’s pressure, the Wolf King growled, black energy swelling around it. Through his divine sight, Chen Ming saw a three-horned demon merging with it in the shadows, and then a domain of the Abyss burst forth, negating the natural domain and even pressing toward him.

Chen Ming was thrown back again; shrouded by the Abyssal domain, a deep demonic energy corroded his body.

“This can’t go on—I’ll be finished,” he thought.

He sensed two divine cores within him: one broken and illusory, emanating the vitality of nature; the other intact, but ordinary, betraying nothing.

“The divine core of nature is incomplete, unable to advance—then…”

With a shift of intent, a golden light of merit within the core blazed, fiercely washing over a seal.

As if responding to his crisis, a faint source of natural power surged in, battering the divine core’s seal.

When the light of merit was nearly exhausted, a ray pierced through. With the mysteries of law flickering before his eyes, the third seal broke open.

With the seal released, spears appeared in the scene.

One, two, a hundred, a thousand… countless spears gathered before Chen Ming, then transformed into a single beam of divine light, piercing forward.

Opposite him, elements converged within the Wolf King’s body, its form gleaming with a metallic sheen, stubbornly enduring the blow.

Yet as the attack ended, the Wolf King’s body was tightly enveloped by divine power, held immobile for the moment.

Seizing the opportunity, Chen Ming rushed forward, imprinting a divine spell upon it, temporarily trapping the beast.

He turned, stepping ahead.

A powerful, evil consciousness descended from the shadows.

It was a demon god, three-horned and scaled, radiating terror, standing before Chen Ming.

Seeing this, Chen Ming sneered; behind him, a white light flared, and a twilight scene unfolded.

The old man hunched, warriors hunted, youths played, and an ancient tree quietly floated—dense faith coalesced into a mighty torrent, surging toward the demon god.

It was the collective consciousness of tens of thousands of devout followers, their prayers manifesting before the demon, enveloping it.

Before the vast tide of faith, the demon god’s will collapsed instantly.

“In the end, it’s nothing but a piece of flesh,” Chen Ming thought silently, witnessing the scene.

As a deity, bearing the thoughts of myriad believers, he feared no contest of wills.

With the demon god’s consciousness shattered, the Wolf King’s massive form crashed to the ground, its eyes dimming, and the lump of flesh—seemingly wounded—lost all sign of awareness, though its body still throbbed like a heart.

Sensing the dwindling divine power within him, Chen Ming sighed softly.