Reincarnated in a novel: I am the villain!-Chapter 318: Final Sarcophagus!
Ssssss.
The sound was like meat dropping onto a white-hot skillet.
The colossal wall of Absolute Midnight, erected by the true 9th-Order might of Ancestor, was dissolving. It wasn’t being attacked by a spell or a weapon. It was simply ceasing to exist in the presence of Azazel’s Red Aura.
Through the thinning barrier of perfect darkness, the Heavenly Demon Lord’s projection laughed—a soft, cultured sound that rattled the bedrock of the Abyss.
"You delay the inevitable, old shadow," Azazel’s voice vibrated directly through their minds, bypassing all physical senses. "I am the end of all things. You cannot build a wall to keepme out."
Damien gritted his teeth. His newly forged 8th-Order Eclipse Core screamed in protest as he fought just to keep his internal organs from liquefying under the ambient pressure. He gripped the Pantheon Sword, his mind racing through every item, every skill, every miracle he had ever seen in the shop.
’System! I have over three million DP! Give me a high-tier teleportation scroll! Give me an absolute barrier! Anything!’ Damien roared inside his own mind.
Yes, considering Azazel descent probably weakened the dimensonal barrier, then this was probably his best time to escape the abyss
Although he would have to leave behind people like Elian, he had no choice.
[System Alert: High-Tier Divine Interference Active.]
[Spatial Laws locked by Entity ’Azazel’.]
[All System escape mechanisms are currently suppressed within the immediate vicinity of the projection.]
"Damn it," Damien cursed aloud, his breath misting into ice crystals.
He was rich, but his money was useless if the store was closed.
The Ancestor, his shadowy form spanning the size of a continent, groaned. The starry black flames in his eyes flickered wildly as he burned his own life force just to maintain the melting wall.
"You all can feel it right," the Ancestor rumbled, his voice strained, though only Damien knew he was referring to the System’s invisible suppression. "Azazels presense alone is locking down the dimensional fabric. As long as his projection stands on this layer, we cannot teleport, and we cannot run."
"Then we fight!" Theron roared, struggling to push himself off the ice, pulling Elizabeth up with him. The Void Mark on his chest was bleeding a sickly purple light, actively resisting him. "We are Voss! We do not wait to be slaughtered!"
"Theron. My proud descendant," the Ancestor’s massive visage turned to look down at the former King of Darkness. The ancient entity’s voice softened, losing its tectonic rumble and taking on the warm, weary tone of a grandfather. "You have fought long enough. You survived the un-survivable. But this is not a battle of Will. It is a battle of Concepts. And compared to us his Concept is absolute."
The Ancestor shifted his burning gaze to Damien.
"Child of my blood," the Ancestor stated, his voice resonating with an immense, sorrowful pride.
"You have done the impossible to reach us. You possess a foundation I have never seen in ten thousand years. But you are unrefined. You lack the Key to the realm of Gods."
Before Damien could ask what he meant, the Ancestor made his move.
The colossal shadow didn’t brace against the melting wall. Instead, he plunged his massive hand directly into the center of his own chest.
SHHHHK!
"Ancestor! What are you doing?!" Elizabeth screamed, her silver hair whipping wildly in the necrotic wind as she leaned against Theron.
The Ancestor pulled his hand out. Resting in his massive palm was a perfectly spherical orb of pure, unadulterated Midnight. It didn’t absorb light; it swallowed it. It wasn’t just a mana core; it was the physical manifestation of the 9th-Order Law of Shadows.
"I cannot kill a God," the Ancestor said, his voice beginning to fade as his towering form started to turn to grey ash without his core to sustain it. "But I can ensure that a God will one day be killed."
With a flick of his wrist, the massive sphere condensed, shrinking down to the size of a marble as it shot toward Damien like a bullet.
Damien didn’t even have time to raise his hands.
THUMP.
The marble of 9th-Order shadow slammed directly into Damien’s chest, sinking through his trench coat and fusing instantly with his Eclipse Core.
Damien gasped, falling to his knees. His eyes rolled back as an ocean of ancient knowledge, universal laws, and the pure, uncorrupted essence of the Voss bloodline flooded his soul. It didn’t push him to the 9th Order—his mortal body would have exploded instantly from the sheer volume of power—but it settled at the base of his core, a perfect, dormant seed waiting to be watered.
[System Alert: Extreme Energy Anomaly Detected.] [Acquired: 9th-Order Foundation Seed (Law of Absolute Midnight).] [The path to the Demigod Realm has been unlocked.]
"Ancestor... no..." Theron choked out, falling to his knees, tears streaming down his face as he realized what the ancient being had just done. By giving up his core, The Ancestor had permanently erased any chance of his own survival or reincarnation.
"Tell the surface," the Ancestor laughed, the starry flames in his eyes burning with one final, blinding surge of absolute defiance. "Tell the Empire, the Dragons, and the Gods... that the Voss family never bowed!"
The Ancestor turned back to the melting wall.
He didn’t try to hold it anymore. He shattered it himself.
"Forbidden Art of the Living Shadow..." the Ancestor roared, his soul igniting into a pillar of blinding black fire.
"...The Final Sarcophagus!"
The entire continent of Layer 9 convulsed.
The black ice, the floating glaciers, the bedrock itself, it all began to transmutate. Under the Ancestor’s final, soul-burning command, the shadows cast by the environment of the 9th Layer were converted into miles of jagged, indestructible, physical darkness.
Millions of massive shadow-spikes erupted from the ground directly beneath Azazel’s projection.
"A final struggle?" Azazel mused, looking mildly annoyed as the spikes attempted to pierce his pristine uniform, only to turn to ash inches from his skin.
But the Ancestor wasn’t trying to pierce him.
The towering, crumbling shadow of the Ancestor lunged forward, physically tackling the projection of the Heavenly Demon Lord.
KRA-KOOOM!
The impact didn’t hurt Azazel, but the sheer momentum of a continent-sized Demigod throwing his entire conceptual weight was enough to force the projection backward.
The Ancestor dragged Azazel directly toward the unstable, pulsating Void Gate.
"What is this?" Azazel’s crimson eyes narrowed, his red aura flaring violently to disintegrate the shadow holding him.
"I am locking the door!" the Ancestor bellowed.
The millions of shadow-spikes rising from the earth didn’t attack; they curved inward, weaving together at impossible speeds. They formed a colossal, multi-layered spherical cage of absolute darkness entirely around the Void Gate, trapping Azazel’s projection and the Ancestor inside it.
CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!
The cage locked shut, sealing the Heavenly Demon Lord within a prison forged from the life force of a 9th-Order Demigod.
The moment the cage sealed, the suffocating, world-ending Red Aura that had paralyzed the dimension was cut off.
Inside Damien’s mind, the System chimed violently.
[System Alert: Divine Interference Severed.]
[Spatial Laws Unlocked.]
Inside the shadow cage, the clash of the Ancestor’s detonating soul and Azazel’s absolute void created a localized singularity.
VWOOOOOOM.
The sound was deafening. The cage began to warp and crack, glowing with an intense, apocalyptic light from the inside out.
Damien hit the ground, his lungs burning as oxygen rushed back into the area. The paralyzing suppression of the God-level entity was gone, but the danger was infinitely worse.
Layer 9 was imploding.
Without the Ancestor holding the tectonic plates, and with a singularity detonating in the center of the dimension, the Frozen Hell was collapsing into the Void. Floating islands of ice vaporized. The ground beneath their feet began to fracture, revealing the endless, starry nothingness below.
"The cage won’t hold him for long!" Theron yelled over the roaring destruction, dragging Elizabeth up as the ice beneath them splintered. "The singularity is going to erase the entire layer in minutes!"
Damien forced himself to his feet. He felt the heavy, dormant weight of the 9th-Order seed resting in his core. The Ancestor had bought them a miracle with his life. Damien wasn’t going to waste it.
He looked at his parents, both battered, bleeding, and completely drained of mana. He looked at Isabelle, who was struggling to stand but already stepping up beside him, her ruby eyes blazing with loyalty.
He looked up.
Millions of miles above them, through the disintegrating ceiling of Layer 9, he could see the chaotic, bloody stampede still choking the chasm of Layer 8 and Layer 7.
"We can’t fly up," Isabelle shouted over the roaring wind, following his gaze. "The chasm is still flooded with beasts! We’ll be torn apart!"
"We aren’t taking the stairs," Damien said, his voice cold and absolute.
His mind flashed to the 3,000,000 DP sitting in his account. The Divine Interference was gone. The shop was open.
’System,’ Damien commanded, his eyes locked on the ceiling of hell. ’I need a straight shot to the surface. Give me a Drill.’
