Chapter 2997: Void Escape
Chapter 2997: Void Escape
Date: Unspecified
Time: Unspecified
Location: Myriad Realms, Dark Realm, Gelid Alps, Snow Elven Region, High Snow District, Boundary Ward
I knew for a fact that my Calamity Daughter Gems were fundamentally different from the World Calamity Tree’s original Calamity Daughter Fruits. Those mythical fruits were dangerous enough on their own, but my gems had been thoroughly reinforced by pure primordial energy and infused with the viral essence of my cursed bloodline. They were an entirely different breed of catastrophe.
I had never actually tested one in a true, high-stakes combat scenario before. I had deliberately held back, not wanting the apex factions of the Dark Realm to catch wind that I possessed such a terrifying weapon.
But now that the Crown Prince was playing the unyielding martyr inside his unbreakable glacier shell, he had unwittingly volunteered as the perfect high-tier test subject. It was time to see exactly what a Primordial Calamity Daughter could do to a ruler class whose will and divinity were enhanced by world-will fragments.
The Snow Elven Prince’s energy suddenly shifted. The brilliant blue light of the Frosell Realm fragment inside his icy ribs flared erratically, pulsing straight through his monolithic exoskeleton. He was ready to make his move. Now that he believed turning into a Glacier Goliath had basically rendered my thousand curse domain completely useless against him, he was bursting with a newfound, misplaced confidence.
However, he failed to understand one fundamental truth: just like how he used the Glacier Fever both as an attack and a support mechanism, my thousand plus Ruler-class curses were also meticulously chosen by me to serve as an all-encompassing system of attack, defense, and support. As long as he was standing within my thousand curse domain, he wasn’t going anywhere. The spatial, gravity, and structural hexes woven into multiple overlapping fields were prepared to face everything he could think of and beyond that.
"I should have known better. Using Glacier Fever against a Frosling? What was I thinking?" the Snow Elven Prince said confidently, his booming voice echoing with the absolute certainty that he now held the upper hand.
"Cut yourself a break, man. You’re doing much better for someone who was forced to commit patricide," I sarcastically consoled him.
The casual, biting mockery instantly wiped the smug smirk right off his frozen face. The fragile composure he had clawed back by transforming into the Glacier Goliath shattered in an instant, replaced by the exact same blind rage he was charging with when he first left the capital. The reminder of his blood-stained hands and the stolen throne struck a nerve so deep that the blue light of the realm fragment turned a chaotic, violent violet.
While the Glacier Prince was trapped in my thousand curse fields, Sansa directly reported to me through Hive Spirit from her command post in Frosnow City.
The political theater happening behind the scenes was almost as grotesque as the Prince’s eugenics vault. Sansa’s origin card had already completely influenced several high-ranking ministers within the Snow Elven high command—specifically, the closest ministers and confidants of the Crown Prince himself. Through their eyes, I got a front-row seat to the empire’s frantic damage-control meeting.
They were currently drafting a massive, realm-wide propaganda campaign to completely rewrite the narrative of the coup. Their plan? Pin the blame for the old Empyrean’s sudden death entirely on a rogue Frosling rebellion and specialized Half-blood assassins.
But they weren’t stopping there. Now that the empire’s worst, most sickening secret was physically tearing up the capital, the high command was planning to do everything in their power to shift the blame, deny responsibility, and claim absolute innocence. They were preparing to publicly declare that the "disgusting and revolting" half-bloods were entirely a Frosling creation. The official elven story was going to be that the Froslings had been kidnapping pure-blooded Snow Elves for centuries, conducting horrific, non-consensual breeding experiments in secret laboratories.
It was a masterclass in political gaslighting. Then again, any good minister looking at the imminent collapse of their civilization would do exactly that to survive.
"Silence, you cursed slave!" the Snow Elven Prince shattered the air with a deafening roar.
Suddenly, an enormous, apocalyptic surge of energy erupted directly from his royal armband that was now fused with his glacier shell. The raw force detonated in his immediate vicinity, violently tearing a jagged, smoking crack right through my thousand curse fields and the structural fabric of space itself. It opened a pitch-black, chaotic door straight into the void. Without a single millisecond of hesitation, the towering Glacier Goliath threw himself headfirst into the abyss.
I stood there for a split second, momentarily stunned. I had genuinely thought he was gearing up to launch a suicidal frontal attack on me, completely forgetting his real priorities thanks to my heavy taunts. But looking at the closing rift, it was clear the bastard had been playing me all along. Or rather, my taunts had completely backfired—instead of blinding him with rage, it reminded him of the terrible price he had already paid for his vision and had snapped him right back to his cold, calculating senses. He knew winning this fight meant nothing if the Forslings were to successfully escape, and he wasn’t going to let his millennia of labor go to waste.
The moment his massive icy frame disappeared, the spatial crack was aggressively locked down and healed by the overwhelming pressure of my thousand curse fields.
I immediately retrieved the fields and expanded my senses to their absolute limit. I knew for a fact he hadn’t just run into the void with his tail between his legs. If he possessed a supreme life-saving artifact that could effortlessly puncture a hole into the void, he absolutely had a paired anchor item designed to safely pull him back into the original space.
And I was right. My Soul Pupils flared, locking onto a massive, moving spike of absolute-zero divinity right at the outermost border of the Frosell District. The fucker was trying to make a mad dash for it!
"Oh no you don’t," I snarled.
Taking his massive, space-tearing velocity into account, I didn’t waste time flying. I instantly activated the Devil Merchant Code, burning through my wealth to teleport my physical body directly into his projected path.
The moment I materialized right in front of his startled, frozen face, I instantly activated my Reality Isolation Seal. A blinding, iridescent barrier expanded outward at lightspeed, violently dragging both of us out of the Dark Realm’s physics and deep into my own localized sub-reality, without him realizing.
I finally let out a sigh of relief. If I had let him run wild on the border, a desperate, cornered Ruler-class Glacier Goliath would have easily detonated the local spatial coordinates of the Frosell District—and if the spatial grid collapsed, it would have systematically destroyed the teleportation arrays Sansa and my clone were currently using to evacuate the Froslings.