Liang Chen stood there for a second and looked at the hand that had passed through the barrier, its skin and flesh had melted away, something that looked like dark black wriggling veins dropping to the ground. Song Zhao and his men looked at the wriggling veins, despair slowly etching itself onto their faces, but Liang Chen's own expression was far more impassive.
A true form, how many times hadn't he thought about it in the past? When his bloodline first started to awaken he was already thinking about what sort of appearance he would be able to take once it fully awakened. But even so, he had never actually taken that final step to confirm it, not once had he shed his skin to take on the true form that all Demonic beast races considered their highest pride.
Was he afraid that the truth would break something in him, not only was he not a god, but he also wasn't even a man? Or did he simply not see a need to take the true form since he was used to fighting in a human form? Truthfully, he didn't know, it was a thought he had never really indulged in, he had always been more focused on the path ahead. Or perhaps even that was just a sign of his fear, an attempt to continue escaping from the truth. After all, if he didn't even have his humanity, what ties could he possibly have left with his deceased parents, the kind couple that had given their life to ensure that the clan didn't move against him?
"No, it's pointless, things aren't so shallow."
Liang Chen quickly shook his head and tossed away the thoughts. His humanity had nothing to do with the ties he had with his family, the only thing that mattered when it came to those ties was the times they shared and the memories they formed. He shook his head once more, a soft and mocking smile spreading across his face.
"Really, Ling'er would slap the back of my head if she saw me like this. She'd definitely scold me viciously as well. So what if a Little Freak doesn't have any human blood, his soul is so stupidly human that something so tiny doesn't even matter."
It had been far too long since he had met Yan Ling, it certainly felt like that to him, but her tone and mannerisms were still perfectly ingrained in his mind. He could practically hear her mocking him as he spoke, that blustering voice soothing his heart and drowning out any other thoughts. He had grown far stronger, but it seemed like his need to occasionally lean on others for support wasn't going to change anytime soon. He raised his other arm and slid off his interspatial ring, tossing it up to Yumao while turning his head.
"Take care of that one for me. You should probably put them all inside while you can, I can't guarantee anything about the size."
Yumao caught the interspatial ring, the disciples he was carrying vanishing into it to assure their safety. Yumao also flapped his wings and ascended as he finished, putting more distance between himself and Liang Chen. He was eagerly awaiting the sight, the true form of terror and death that none could escape.
With Yumao putting some distance between them, Liang Chen could turn his gaze back onto Song Zhao and the sect ahead of him. Song Zhao's true form was quivering softly as he stood there, the fact that Liang Chen's hand managed to pass through the barrier told him of a truth he didn't want to accept, an end he wasn't prepared for.
But that was just the sort of thing an end was, no one was ever really prepared for it, no one ever truly wanted to accept it. But it came for you nonetheless, marching onwards without halt until its cold hands reached your neck, whispered your name and scattered it to the winds.
Liang Chen raised his leg and stepped forward, passing through the barrier as if it was nothing more than a thin screen of water, a refreshing shower. But his skin melted as he stepped forward, his flesh slid down his body as if it was rotting at an incredible pace. Bones crumbled and turned to dust, every inch of Liang Chen's being turning into nothing more than wriggling black veins, infinitely close to worms.
This novel's true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.
But it was when the last of these veins dropped to the ground that the true change happened. One rose slightly, stretching skywards as it reached for the heavens. A second quickly followed, twisting around the first and causing both to increase in size exponentially, as if 1+1 became 4.
A third and fourth were quickly added on, the black veins multiplying ceaselessly as they twisted and coiled around each other, wriggling as a single horrifying mass as they stretched towards the sky. The tower of wriggling veins swiftly started to morph and change, turning as it slimmed down to grow longer.
A somewhat triangular head formed at the tip, two dark golden orbs lighting up from within the writhing mass to form eyes. The veins split apart to form a massive maw, some of the veins drying out and forming razor-sharp teeth that looked like bleached bones.
More veins grew out from the long serpentine body, gathering together into eight thick limbs that wriggled as much as the rest of the body, more of the 'worms' drying out to form bent claws. And then what seemed to be the beast's back split open, bright red blood that formed a stark contrast to the rest of the body spurting out.
But the blood never got a chance to fall to the ground, it solidified and hardened, becoming something akin to metallic crystal. They weren't leathery, or even feathery, but what had formed was unmistakably wings, two bloody and jagged wings filled with a twisted sense of beauty.
The world changed in accordance with the appearance of the beast, the land dried out and died, taking on a bone-like texture as ashen white sand started to spread out. The dark clouds that had been scattered by Liang Chen's previous attack started to gather again, a new storm pelting the land as horrendous winds and bolts of violent lightning tore at the ruined land and split the sky.
This was not a result of Liang Chen using the Rain Caller's Dance, this was just the natural result of a beast such as this appearing. It was born, and the world changed at its presence, a natural domain that would follow it wherever it went, a blight on the land and life. That was the power of a bloodline sitting at the peak, a bloodline reserved only for Origin Beasts.
Song Zhao's quivering body had already slumped to the ground, his crimson head pointed towards the sky, his companions equally unable to remain standing. What laid beyond despair? Hopelessness? Acceptance? Struggling? Rage? No, there was just nothing, an emptiness so all-encompassing that it bordered on madness. Was he even thinking right now? He honestly couldn't tell, what he was seeing and feeling had already left any scope of reality he could understand.
Perhaps just fading away into the cold embrace of the void would be better than having to keep looking at the beautiful monstrosity that covered the sky above him. Size didn't always equal power when it came to Demonic beasts, but the monster above him stretched on for several kilometres, seemingly going on without end. Had the city still been standing then he would definitely have been able to coil around it and crush it with his body, he could flatten it just by coiling up.
He couldn't even muster any thoughts of resistance, any desire to move a muscle to escape. He could just lie there with his head raised, gazing upon the horror that had descended upon the city he had ruled for close to 2000 years. With a being like that existing, how could the sky ever belong to the wyverns of eagles of the world?
He could only watch as the great monstrosity opened its maw wide, the bits of debris that hadn't been completely disintegrated rising into the air as they were drawn in by that maw. And it wasn't just the debris. The air, the rain, the lightning, the dark clouds, everything was sucked into that open maw.
"Ahh...Purgatory has already fallen..."
Those were the final thoughts and words of the Wyvern's Wrath, the Sorrow of the Sky. The magnificent abomination above him unleashed the power gathered in its maw, a rippling and twisting mass of wind that was almost invisible billowing forth and descending upon the world. The wind twisted around itself like waves crashing into each other, everything caught in it was tossed about and continuously crushed between the heavy pressure and force of the wind roiling around itself.
Man turned to nothing, stone turned to nothing, land turned to nothing, civilization turned to nothing. The breath gave everything the same end, non-existence. Dust was thrown into the air, covering they sky as if a volcano had erupted, but only the dust that managed to avoid the breath attack was able to rise into the air, if it got caught then it would meed the same end as everything else.
By the time the dust settled, all that remained on the land was a wide hole in the ground revealing the hidden storeroom of blood that the Wyvern's Wrath had been guarding since its conception. Even the ashen white sand and bone-like earth that signified the void had vanished under the breath. The clouds had dissipated after being absorbed, all that remained beneath the blue sky and above the ruined land was Liang Chen, once again in his human form as he gazed down upon the ruin he wrought.