Chapter 142

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Chapter 142: Fighting For Time

The ground trembled slightly.

For a moment, neither of them reacted. The ground in the abyss always trembled from time to time, earthquakes, collapses, and even volcanic eruptions were not uncommon. It wasn’t until the magical fluctuations became impossible to ignore, and every bone trembled as they rose from the ground, that Tasha and Victor realized what was happening.

This is the abyss, where demons who die in the Primary Material Plane return to their birthplace, but those who die in the abyss leave behind their bodies – not to mention Reaper Anmeng is not considered dead. Its massive head had exploded, its soul fire scattered, unable to reform for at least a few months. It should be asleep, sleeping for a long enough time.

It should be so.

They had already left the original spot, but the skeletal body of the Demon Lord was so huge that the mountain-sized skeleton scattered into a pile, forming a sizeable skeletal hill. Tasha flew with Victor in the air above this newly formed hill, their speed was not slow, but it only took them a few minutes to reach the point where they had dealt with Reaper Anmeng.

Below them, very close by, the skeletal hill stood up.

The dim and lifeless bone fragments, which had lost their heads, once again gleamed with a strange glassy color. The pale skeleton creaked, interlocking with each other, like a model assembled by an invisible hand, reassembling in mid-air. The huge bones collided with each other, emitting loud noises. If there truly was a hand assembling it, the owner of the hand would either be a patient angry man or a child gleefully smashing everything.

Tasha didn’t need to ask Victor what was going on; the shock on Victor’s face was clearly saying that what was happening in front of them was not supposed to happen.

The violent reshuffling happened quickly, with countless collisions occurring at the same time. Lots of bones flew everywhere, making more noise than when Anmeng was shot down. But it’s okay, the broken bones that fell to the ground will rise again, like iron filings rushing towards a magnet, sticking haphazardly to the newly formed skeletal body.

The shattered skull pieces are coming back together, bones piling up and pressing against each other, cracks disappearing rapidly. This repair job is a mess, Reaper’s head looks more twisted than before, turning into an irregularly shaped, roughly sculpted body. There are no eye sockets on the skull, teeth growing into the top of the head, with soul fire flickering in the gaps, the eerie flames burning brightly, scorching the skull and setting the whole skull on fire.

"Abyss…," Victor said bitterly, "This is outright cheating."

Indeed, this is cheating.

Reapers are undead demons, and except for being completely destroyed, their "death" means losing mobility, lying around like corpses somewhere, slowly gathering magical energy from the air to come back to life. This process can be long or short, but in the abyss, it’s like sitting in first class, which would take hundreds of years in the Primary Material Plane but can be shortened to months or even years here because the environment is conducive to demon recovery. A Reaper deprived of mobility can only drift with the tide, taking several months at best without external intervention.

What if there’s external intervention?

A huge skeleton stood up, powerful magic surging like waves, almost causing a tingling sensation on the skin. No need to ask, Tasha could clearly feel where that external force was coming from, not from any demon, just from the abyss itself.

"This kind of thing shouldn’t happen at all," Victor murmured regretfully, "Not even sacrificing oneself to the abyss would do, otherwise, which Demon Lord would obediently die? The abyss wouldn’t do such a thing…"

The pale Anmeng was resurrected, but now, that skeleton monster might not be able to be called by that name anymore. Other than the bones and scythe, there is no resemblance to the previous Demon Lord. If the previous Anmeng was likened to a normal person, the one in front of them would be like Frankenstein made from body parts.

Before it fully took shape, it started attacking.

The huge bone sickle sliced through the air, moving so fast it created a small whirlwind. Tasha struggled to keep her balance, like a bird in a storm. The tip of her wing was grazed by the blade, causing a large section of her sturdy feathers to break, almost making her lose her balance.

She threw Victor in a safer direction, splitting up to lighten her load and keep Victor grounded for better maneuverability. Tasha pulled out another long knife to block another swing of the bone sickle, but the knife snapped just as the two clashed.

The reaper’s bones were even tougher than before.

Without a doubt, the Power of the Abyss surged towards them, pouring down like a flood onto the pile of bones. Since being revived, Anmeng had not spoken a word, perhaps not just because he had no mouth. Tasha had been favored by the Abyss, and she could say with certainty that its favor was not as… extreme. If the Power of the Abyss could be likened to wind, the reaper in front of them was the eye of the Abyss’s storm, infused with such a thick concentration of the Power of the Abyss in such a short time that even a Demon Lord would struggle to keep their sanity.

The chaotic will had torn apart the pale Anmeng’s soul, its remains burning wildly like a blazing fire.

Victor had been exiled by the Abyss, unable to feel it, while Tasha sensed it even further. For the first time ever, Tasha felt the "malice" of the Abyss.

Did Anmeng offer himself to the Abyss? Uncertain. But the Abyss had surely chosen Anmeng to stop Tasha and Victor.

The Abyssal Will would not act this way, not caring about individual lives. Unless faced with the ultimate threat of life and death, like every collective consciousness, the Abyss started to save itself.

The earlier attack was like a sudden rainstorm, now the sickle is like a flash of light. It’s too fast, the reaper’s speed is even faster than before death, and it seems to be getting faster and faster, like a well-oiled machine. The room for counterattack is getting smaller and smaller, almost none. Victor and Tasha quickly became exhausted, dodging with all their might.

During another dodge, something unexpected happened.

Tasha started to have a headache, or felt some sort of soul pain. The connection to the Primary Material Plane dungeon became distorted, as if seeing something through a prism, the light distorted, suddenly elongated.

In the life and death struggle, such a daze was fatal.

She dodged the bone sickle in front of her but couldn’t avoid the one behind her. The width of the blade was larger than Tasha’s own width, yet the thinnest edge of the blade was finer than a strand of hair. It –

Sliced through her waist.

The intense pain made Tasha’s vision black out, as if the world had been extinguished. After a second or countless years, her vision brightened, but it wasn’t the view from this side of the abyss.

It was the dungeon’s view, this is the Primary Material Plane.

On this vast land, the battle is raging.

Tasha heard loud roars coming from giant beasts of all kinds. A white giant wolf howled, Marion bared her shiny white teeth, claws gripping the ground, shaking the mountains. A red-winged dragon swooped down, ready to unleash a fiery breath, with Dragon Knight Douglas not on its back because humans were not allowed in this level of battle anymore.

Silver Wolf’s sharp teeth clashed with a huge shadow, fangs and claws leaving only a few scratches on the thick fur. The huge shadow turned out to be just a giant paw, similar to Marion’s wolf paw but many times larger. The fiery breath scorched the air, distorting the space around it, but before it could hit anything, another burst of flames rushed up.

The dragon’s breath could instantly melt steel into steam, as hot as lava, matching the oncoming flames. A clash of gold-red dragon breath and purple flames produced such heat that the nearby land smelled burnt, turning both humans and demons into ashes.

In the sky above the battlefield, there was a colossal beast with thick pillars for limbs, a tail like a whip, and three large canine heads on the same neck, each with two mouths full of fangs, drooling and sizzling on the ground, emitting smoke.

Demon Lord, Hell’s Three-Headed Dog "Six Mouth Moya."

Silver Wolf Marion ran between the giant claws, targeting the most agile head in the middle. The dragon flew above, with the left head spewing flames—the true Legendary Ancient Dragon could defeat this weakened Demon Lord, but even this dragon was a creation with a dragon soul. The right head spewed poisonous smoke, as the Undead Sorcerer controlled undead warriors who attacked in the deadly fumes, turning into pus if hit by the poison.

Everyone was fighting desperately.

"Entangle in Death!" Druid Alfred shouted.

Thick vines bound the Hell’s Three-Headed Dog’s flailing paws, capable of causing great harm just by moving at its size. Vines thicker than a person’s waist suddenly rose from the ground, tightly wrapping around the giant beast’s paws, but often only effective for a few minutes. The huge vines, impervious to slashing and chopping, seemed like ordinary weeds on the demon’s paws.

Alfred felt a bit out of place amusement, as if he was back to when he first developed this skill. Back then, dealing with death was as easy as cutting through weeds with a knife. But on this battlefield, no one understood his smile anymore, his training partner from the beginning was no longer there.

The Magic Archer Atlantic died in the first onslaught of Six Mouth Moya, her ice arrows buying a few seconds for those around her. The brown-haired Amazon warrior fought until the very end, her remains vanishing on the battlefield.

In the battlefield ravaged by giant beasts, the warriors couldn’t retreat because from the cracks in the sky, more big things were falling.

Packs of pitch-black large dogs, with a single-headed Felhound as big as a horse, their teeth sharp enough to bite through steel. This small area was like a wild territory, beasts fighting beasts – the spirit beast of the Beast Speaker fighting side by side with the Druid partner, the Shape-shifter Druid having transformed into a wild animal, unleashing fury on the invaders from the abyss. The transformed Orc Warrior sprinted across the battlefield, a water buffalo’s horn piercing many mad dogs’ bellies, pushing out many demons’ insides, then having its throat bitten by a giant dog with two heads.

Wizards’ successive attacks were hitting the Toxic Charizards, the high-level demon Balrog taking advantage of chaos, aided by the Hell’s Three Headed Dog’s intimidating presence, making it hard to land hits. Two Toxic Charizards were attacking the Ice Element in the sky, "Two against one, shameless creatures!" muttered Echo Witch Sandblast, wiping the continuous nosebleed.

Priests on the battlefield, chanting prayers, providing support. A Little Devil screeched and leaped forward, Priest Robbie swinging a mace, flattening the plump little monster. Priests occasionally raised a magic wand, a mace, a nail-studded hammer, driving away the monsters lurking near them and their comrades. The warriors ahead did their best to keep the higher demons at bay, there weren’t enough hands to stop these small stragglers, they had to protect themselves.

Chaos, fierce battles, everyone fought fiercely and bloodily.

But that wasn’t the most terrifying thing.

The Hell’s Three Headed Dog was scarred, the battlefield was a tragic sight, clearly having been in battle for a long time. It had been quite some time since Six Mouth Moya arrived in the Primary Material Plane, a huge and immensely dark shadow was approaching in the air channel.

Tasha knew what it was.

The fixed minimum time interval between two lords had passed, in gaming terms, it was like the cooldown time was over. The lord, Chaos Stomach of the Devouring Demon, was approaching. Compared to this terrifying devourer, the mobile stomachs seemed harmless like pink balloons.

Then, the vision was cut off.

The vision was interrupted, then restarted. Tasha felt intense pain again and saw the abyss. The connection to the Primary Material Plane dungeon was suddenly cut off, as if something was inserted in between. Tasha, left on this side, couldn’t know what happened next there. She coughed up blood and saw her leg.

A few meters away.

The scythe cut through the waist, splitting it in two.

Tasha was still alive, barely hanging on. Her healing ability was trying to close the wound, but she couldn’t regenerate her bisected body. Something was blocking the connection to the dungeon core, magic transmission was interrupted. She was trapped in this dying body, like a plant uprooted and thrown onto concrete. This wasn’t her domain, this was the abyss.

If she died, this part of her soul would die completely. Tasha wasn’t a demon who could split her soul, she didn’t know what it would feel like to "die a part."

From Victor’s reaction, it definitely wasn’t a good thing.

Tasha’s broken body lay on the ground. It seemed like she had been forgotten for a few minutes, but she did not become more damaged during those few minutes as if she had been left alone – that was impossible. The crazed reaper showed no mercy and had no interest in watching her suffer slowly to death. The only reason Tasha wasn’t attacked was that Anmeng got in the way.

The shadow of the sword fell fiercely, flying sideways before hitting the ground. A piece of the scythe fell to the ground not far away, still trembling as it sought to return to its original form. The figure that had just cut it had already moved, leaving only a shadow behind. Many scythes fell in succession, creating a continuous sound of breaking through the air, in addition to the sharp sound of objects cutting through the air, there was also a short and extremely intense explosion. To block so many scythes alone, one must be very, very fast. Victor swiftly moved under the blades, throwing punches in the air countless times, creating sonic booms.

Spectacular and skillful, to make up for the gap from the lost original body, the Demon Lord’s thousands of years of experience and skills were being pushed to the limit. Tasha thought to herself fuzzily that if this segment could be turned into a page in the Book of Dungeons, it would probably be one of the best teachings.

But can one hand stop a hailstorm?

Victor is Tasha’s protector. His body was shaped by Tasha, and no one knew better than her the condition of that body. Victor’s outburst temporarily stopped the reaper, but that interception couldn’t last forever, and it certainly wouldn’t be without a cost.

Tick, a drop of blood fell on Tasha’s face.

The reaper’s frame had no fresh blood, so whose blood could it be? Victor’s speed and attack strength had exceeded the body’s limits. He seemed to be in a chaotic space, bleeding and healing at every moment, with healing falling behind. Cracks of various kinds appeared on the reaper’s huge skeleton, some of which could cause the bones to collapse, but they would slowly regenerate. The Abyss was cheating – the banished demon was fighting against an entire Abyss. He couldn’t possibly win.

Victor was just buying time for Tasha. He believed in her.

Ah, it’s time to decide.

Even if it’s like drinking poison to quench thirst, one must first survive the current crisis.

Tasha’s soul calls out to the abyss.

They passed through a passage between the abyss and the Primary Material Plane. When they first arrived here, Tasha carefully explored the abyss, trying to understand what had happened here. The first time she approached cautiously, guarded and ready to retreat at any moment. But this time, Tasha took a leap of faith, holding nothing back.

Do you desire my soul? Then come, try your luck.

The Abyssal Will descended immediately, a chaotic and greedy giant consciousness rushing towards Tasha’s soul, like a foolish starving creature rushing towards food. When Tasha was seen as a deadly enemy by the Will, it hesitated to cheat for the reaper, even sacrificing itself to strangle them here; and when Tasha signaled complicity, the abyss became a generous host, continuously injecting a large amount of the Power of the Abyss into Tasha’s soul.

The wound at her waist immediately stopped bleeding. Tasha saw fleshy tentacles grow from her waist, reaching several meters away, melding back together like kneading clay. The scene was eerie, but who would care at such a moment? Escaping death is always good. Tasha stood up, feeling nauseated, angry, ecstatic, wanting to unleash havoc, indifferent to everything. She looked up at the enormous dry bones daring to offend her, as if looking at ants.

When Tasha called for power, she received it, knowing that the power itself came with a cost.

The surging Power of the Abyss filled her body, the dark force spreading through her veins. She accepted it greedily, like a dying person not caring if a certain fuel harms their body. As the abyss tried to corrupt her, Tasha began to extract in reverse, strengthening herself.

Crack! When the power surged, the barriers in the connection were broken, the view of the Primary Material Plane opened up again, and her body reunited with the soul in the dungeon’s main body.

Tasha is a castle.

The castle is called Abyss Outpost for a reason.

Plants uprooted from the soil begin to grow in the cement at Abyss Outpost. The Abyssal Will waters Tasha with murky power, nurturing her soul to grow and thrive in this murky environment. These unique changes cannot be seen by the naked eye, only those with magical vision can sense what she is doing. Just like an island appearing in a storm, like dropping a drop of ink in chaos, firmly pushing away other colors… Tasha harnesses the power of the abyss to establish a small base at the abyss.

Victor falls to the ground, his face barely recognizable, his body covered in blood and flesh. His body is on the verge of collapse, with a large part of his shoulder cut off by a scythe, he sighs but lets out a satisfied moan. An immensely powerful magic flows through his connection with Tasha, rapidly repairing his nearly broken body. Tasha filters out the will of the abyss, refining pure power to nourish her covenantor.

Dozens of scythes are swung down towards Tasha and Victor. They fall far from the target, along with the arms wielding the scythes.

Tasha appears on the arms of the reaper, many arms, appearing so quickly that it seems like she has multiplied. She doesn’t need a knife anymore; there is no knife that can compare to her own body at this moment. Tasha’s very existence is a weapon. Her intact devil wings unfold behind her, one pair, then another, and another, a total of three pairs of black wings flapping behind her, their edges as sharp as knives.

She grabs each bone, gripping and pulling.

Cracks spread in Tasha’s hands, the massive bones shatter between her slender fingers, as if a dam were shattered with a chopstick. The reaper struggles furiously, like a fat worm caught by a wasp, unable to strike her no matter how it twists. The power that recently allowed it to die and resurrect with the upper hand has now turned it into a puppet, the Power of the Abyss is just so unreasonable.

Tasha even tries to steady herself for a moment; the reaper’s bones send her flying, dozens of meters away. By the time she can regain her balance, the shattered internal bones have already healed. She spits out the blood in her mouth, straightens her twisted neck bone, and watches the reaper futilely resist. This is good, very good, she needs time to control this chaotic power that does not belong to her, she needs an outlet for her anger.

The progress bar of merging dungeons, at some point, turned into chaos.