Chapter 86
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Chapter 86: The Tortured Death World—Valaharl 3/8
“Honestly, what’s happening?”
Amidst the chaos, a voice unmistakably belonging to a devastating beauty complained loudly.
Mockery laced her tone.
“Councilor Leirajin, if this task overwhelms you, just say so.”
“I’m certain many brothers and sisters would gladly ‘assist’ with your duties.”
Her thinly veiled scorn sparked derisive laughter and jeering whispers.
Most joined in with rowdy agreement.
“So this is the expert maintaining the Subspace conduit?”
“We demand answers!”
“Return our tributes!”
“Boo—!”
As clamor erupted, the presiding "core demon god" swung the dreadful "Primordial Hammer," its thunderous rumble shaking Subspace.
He bellowed hoarsely, “Order! Maintain order!”
A Chaos Demon God crying for "order" seemed almost ludicrous.
Yet "chaos" signified more than mere disorder. Scattered sand could never shatter an egg; only compacted into stone would it crush its target.
In truth, chaos most often heralded destruction.
Here, it also embodied endless greed.
Driven by avarice and Subspace’s hunger for expansion, the Chaos Demon Gods savagely invaded Bubble Worlds. After each conquest, Subspace roots coiled around and pierced these realms, relentlessly draining their energy to fuel its rapacious growth.
Subspace’s thriving expansion showered the Chaos Demon Gods with abundant resources.
Thus, sustaining the roots’ growth and shielding them from mad Outer Gods’ assaults became vital—a duty entrusted to several "high-ranking demon gods."
"Core councilor" Leirajin was among them.
Though merely a "core councilor" with unremarkable power among demon gods, he held the Fourteenth Seat—nearly on par with the twelve core councilors.
Despite having executed only one successful "Time of the End" and imprisoning a Bubble World’s "will" via Subspace roots, many who achieved this feat twice or thrice ranked beneath him.
His Fourteenth Seat in the Chaos Council solely reflected his role’s significance.
The higher the perch, the colder the wind. Without strength matching one’s station, envy and attacks were inevitable.
Leirajin knew this well.
“Enough! Cease these baseless accusations!”
“It’s nothing but trivial meddling by those Outer Gods!”
“My subordinate officials will investigate!”
“All remains under control! Soon, normality will be restored!”
“The Subspace roots will absolutely grow back!”
“Those Outer Gods who ruined our great ‘Black Expedition’ shall meet their deserved end.”
“I pro…mise…”
But his words remained unfinished…
“Boom—!”
“Eek—!”
A violent tremor shook all of Subspace, and every demon god heard Subspace’s anguished wail!
Amidst the chaos, the demon gods stared at one another in terror.
Something nearly unheard-of had happened!
—-
The Bubble World Valaharl.
This fallen Bubble World had long witnessed the gods’ demise, its lands now a demonic paradise. Subspace’s roots coiled around the world, thin tendrils stabbing into it like needles, constantly draining its nutrients.
Such a world could no longer sustain human life, earning it the name “Death World.”
The world consciousness of a “Death World” typically fades after the world’s fall—or becomes trapped by the “will” projected through Subspace’s encroaching roots.
Though her own will and fierce instinct to protect life still resisted Subspace’s invasion, slowing its relentless drain, she knew her strength would one day fail.
And always, the whispers from Subspace haunted her:
“Submit!”
“Embrace death!”
“Does this agony not torment you?”
“Does it not pain you—pierced by countless needles?”
“No one will save you!”
“Despair! Succumb!”
…
These voices echoed endlessly within Valaharl’s consciousness.
They belonged to the “Subspace consciousness.”
Like the Bubble World, Subspace itself possessed will—but fractured and discordant. Imagine Subspace as a forest of interconnected trees, where each tree represented a distinct plane.
Every Subspace plane held its own fragmented “will.”
The voice now speaking came from the Subspace plane that had grown fat by gnawing on Valaharl’s essence.
It was vicious beyond measure.
Even as it consumed the Bubble World’s vitality to fuel its growth, it never ceased its taunts and mockery.
Yet in a twisted sense, Subspace’s jeers held truth—perhaps even a perverse mercy to the captive world.
Pain truly was pain.
Imagine thousands of needle-sharp thorns tipped with barbs, slowly piercing your “flesh,” digging ever deeper. Your “blood” greedily sucked through hollow needles.
What torment this was!
Even a being as mighty as the Will of the World would tremble beneath such agony.
Better to surrender early and find release.
"No… no…"
Yet through every torment, Valaharl clenched her teeth and endured.
"There are things I must protect!"
In the haze between repeated blackouts and awakenings, she glimpsed what she guarded—
Refuge after refuge beneath the molten earth.
Neither biting cold nor scorching heat could break humanity’s will to survive.
Against all despair, they poured all their strength into shielding civilization’s final kindling!
"If the children refuse to yield, how could their mother lag behind!"
"Hold fast, and miracles shall come!"
"It must…"
Her whisper drew fresh mockery from Subspace.
"Your laughable delusions won’t materialize."
"Your pitiful persistence bears no fruit."
"The Chaos Demon God remains undefeated in countless battles!"
"No instance exists where the Time of the End was halted—let alone rescuing an entangled ‘Bubble World’…"
"Eee—aaaaaaah—!"
The taunts ended in a shriek—
Not the cry of any demon god, but Subspace itself screaming in agony!
Then…
"Tear—!"
"Ungh…"
Even iron-willed Valaharl couldn’t stifle her groan at the piercing pain, yet incredulous joy surged within her.
"Part of the roots… torn away!?"
"The binding weakens!?"
"Just… a little more!"
But no greater effort was needed.
"Awoo—!"
An enraged howl thundered, then…
The unthinkable happened—something Valaharl, Subspace, and all demon gods never dared imagine, an event nearly without precedent!
