Poison God's Heritage

Chapter 868 Entry

"What in heaven's name is this thing?"

The question echoed endlessly in my mind, but no answers came. It felt like I had been thrown into a new reality, one where logic no longer existed. This new place, with its gleaming stars and far-flung planets, was overwhelming, a stark contrast to the cold, desolate void of the Beyond.

The stars seemed more vibrant here, like scattered jewels in the sky, and the planets, enormous and glowing, seemed to pulse with life from afar. But nothing could explain the sheer impossibility of what we were seeing now.

Before us stood a titan—no, colossus—so incomprehensibly large, it dwarfed the scale of anything I had ever seen, even the Primordial Serpent God. But this thing, this monstrous humanoid figure, was bigger than the mountains of the world, bigger than the planetary bodies that orbited nearby. It casually held a planet in its hand, like a child's toy. How could something like that exist?

How could it move? Why did it exist?

Its body appeared to be made entirely of nebulous gas, swirling with the energy of stars long dead, yet it somehow also felt alive, organic. The gaseous form shifted, twisted in places, like a storm trapped inside the silhouette of a human. No clear features were visible on its face—if it could be called a face—but two miniature galaxies swirled slowly where eyes should have been.

These twin galaxies rotated lazily, glowing with faint light, giving the terrifying impression that the colossus was observing us. Staring us down with the weight of countless eons.

It didn't move. It didn't need to. Just the act of looking at it made me feel small, so small and insignificant that my very presence felt like a meaningless speck in the grand fabric of the universe. This creature exuded an aura of immense age and incomprehensible power. I could feel the pressure, not just in my mind but deep in my bones.

Every atom in my body screamed that this was something beyond our understanding—something that should not exist, but did.

"In case you haven't noticed," I retorted, my voice dripping with sarcasm, "there are two massive First Borns right in front of us!"

The Jade Dragon, still recovering from the overwhelming pressure we had all felt, spoke in a deep, rumbling voice. "They also look... confused," he muttered, his breath still heavy.

"That formation," Tao Yang explained, "is an incredibly powerful illusion. It's designed to trap the Rakshasa in this portion of space. If you look closely, you'll notice that Solarous—and all of the space around it—is locked down. We're in a kind of pocket dimension right now."

I glanced over my shoulder, back toward the rim of this strange, translucent wall. Sure enough, there was a faint glow surrounding the region, almost like the space itself had been sealed off. Beyond it, I could just make out the faint glimmers of Qi signatures moving in the distance, though it was difficult to tell what they were.

"I'll dock us before the First Borns notice us," Tao Yang said, her hands moving swiftly over the ship's controls. Her usually calm demeanor was gone, replaced by urgency.

"Good idea," I muttered, still glancing nervously at the massive figures of the First Borns. They loomed like ancient statues, frozen in time, but their presence was anything but benign.

As I moved toward the ship's helm, a thought struck me. "Wait—what about those Qi signatures out there?" I asked, my eyes narrowing at the faint movements I had spotted earlier.

The Blue Sun followed my gaze, peering into the distance where faint traces of movement flickered in the far reaches of space. "Cultivators?" she asked, her voice rising in surprise. "I thought they were all wiped out."

Tao Yang's expression darkened. "My people were wiped out, yes. But this universe is vast. There are countless other civilizations, full of cultivators who survived. They trapped us here, in Solarous, and did nothing to help. When we faced our calamity, they shut their gates, leaving us to suffer."

I sighed as I tried to imagine the betrayal they had to face and how lonely they must have felt. In this world, there is no such thing as compassion.