The moment she saw the leading Ancestor of the Wind Thunder Pavilion,
Acheron understood that he was very powerful—stronger than the Sect Master of the Wind Thunder Pavilion.
However...
Beings that wallow in self-degradation will eventually be swallowed by Nihility.
Acheron.
As one who stands beneath the shadow of Nihility, walking upon the shore of death,
Her eyes could not distinguish between good and evil as Little Yao's could.
But she could clearly see the departed souls drowning within the shadows.
This Wind Thunder Pavilion Ancestor's body… was filled with a nauseating aura—the screams of countless souls who had died unjust deaths.
And that loathsome presence—
Acheron slowly raised her head, gazing up at the brilliant night sky.
Her purple pupils traced farther and farther, piercing through layers of "beauty,"
Until they reached beyond this false sky—
Where a cruel firmament, stained in the color of blood, loomed overhead.
The entire world seemed submerged within a bloody hell.
That is the aura of a god…
Since arriving in this world, Acheron had felt a deep sense of discomfort.
Along with a faint, almost imperceptible sensation of being watched.
Now, upon seeing this so-called Ancestor of the Wind Thunder Pavilion, her suspicions were partially confirmed.
Acheron did not know what had happened to this world—
But she could guess what had happened to the Wind Thunder Pavilion.
Ever since witnessing Mo Xin's injury and seeing what had happened to Little Yao,
It had been a long time since Acheron had felt such a clear, inexplicable emotion surge within her heart.
The irony was—
She did not even know what kind of emotion it was.
"Acheron, since you have heard the Ancestor's words, why do you not surrender at once?"
"Otherwise, do not blame us for taking action personally."
Seeing Acheron sigh softly before raising her gaze to the sky,
Lei Hao and the others collectively assumed that she had lost heart and was preparing to give up.
Even so, to be safe, Lei Hao had already activated the sect's grand formation, remaining vigilant against any hidden means she might use to escape.
The various Ancestors also looked down upon her with arrogance, not taking her seriously in the slightest.
At that moment—
Acheron moved.
Countless memories flashed through her mind, including scenes with Little Yao.
Her purple eyes slowly lifted toward the lofty crowd, her voice carrying a faint trace of emotion.
"Even I am a little angry now."
"Are those your last words?"
The leading old man was not surprised in the least.
After all, how could someone of this level willingly surrender when cornered?
With his hands clasped behind his back, he spoke arrogantly,
"It seems you intend to resist until the end."
As he spoke, the pressure of the Tribulation Transcendence Realm erupted without restraint.
This time, the terrifying fluctuations spread across the entire Tianlan Continent, clearly felt by countless experts.
The appearance of a Tribulation Transcendence expert sent shockwaves throughout the land.
Acheron met his gaze calmly.
The so-called pressure could not even approach her.
Yet she showed no urgency to fight. Instead, she asked quietly,
"Giving up everything in exchange for this illusory power… do you regret it?"
At this, the Ancestor sneered.
"Hahaha, you truly know quite a few secrets."
"Heh, illusory? How could I regret such intoxicating power!"
"As long as I can obtain this, what does it matter if I abandon everything else?"
"Is that so… To remain forever immersed in a dream—how pitiful."
Acheron neither agreed nor disagreed.
She had already seen through his heart.
Slowly, she placed her hand beneath the sword guard.
Seeing this, Lei Hao could not help but mock her.
"Hahaha, still trying to bluff?"
"This kind of power is not something an ant like you can wield. Otherwise, why have you not drawn that blade from the beginning?"
The Ancestor shared the same understanding.
No one knew better than he did—
The power of gods was not something mortals could casually touch.
The power of Nihility…
Hearing their ridicule, Acheron remained completely unmoved.
Instead, she stated calmly,
"What you say is indeed correct… but you have misunderstood one thing."
Ancient memories surged forth like a tide, dragging her back into that blood-red twilight.
Rain poured endlessly, turning heaven and earth into a chaotic cage.
Acheron stood alone amidst a mountain of corpses and a sea of blood, millions of broken blades piercing the scorched land like thorn-covered tombstones.
Eight million gods descended from the heavens, their divine authority forming an inescapable prison.
Her purple pupils suddenly constricted—
Transforming into blood-red vertical slits.
A single tear of blood slid down from the corner of her eye.
The blurred memories made it impossible for Acheron to distinguish illusion from reality.
At that moment, everyone present felt an invisible force sweep past their feet like a rising tide.
It crept upward along their spines—
Until it engulfed the entire Wind Thunder Pavilion.
Even the Ancestor subconsciously clenched his fists.
The Sect Master and the Elders all turned pale.
They had never witnessed such pure killing intent—
An intent so overwhelming it seemed capable of dyeing the entire sect in blood.
From the very first glance, Acheron had already seen it clearly.
In her eyes, not only this Ancestor—
But also every Sect Master and Elder—
The entire Wind Thunder Pavilion was nothing more than a blood-soaked graveyard, every brick and stone echoing with the wails of the dead.
In that case—
"This blade remains sheathed not out of mercy or contempt."
"It is a secret I am unwilling to show others. But as a return gift…"
Clang—!
The blade shifted slightly from its scabbard.
A crimson glow flared from the guard, sweeping across every heart like the shadow of death itself.
The lightning protection surrounding the Tribulation Transcendence Ancestor shattered inch by inch, as though crushed into a swamp by an invisible hand.
He could not move—even a single finger.
Every person present felt the shadow of death brush against their throats.
Their hair stood on end.
Their screams were trapped within their chests—
Unable to escape.
The world before their eyes lost all color.
Only black and white remained.
Time itself seemed to freeze—
Becoming utterly meaningless.
Then, only a whisper remained.
Cold. Emotionless. Unavoidable.
"May death end your long dream… and return you to a waking world."
…
"Sigh, why hasn't Acheron come back yet? Time is almost up, isn't it?"
Song Qianqian and Little Yao sat on the ground, worry evident in their voices.
If not for Jiang Qingning's persuasion, the two of them would have already rushed off.
But in the next moment—
A violent earthquake struck without warning.
The ground trembled violently, throwing all three of them to the ground.
"Look over there!"
Little Yao cried out as she lay on the ground.
The others hurriedly followed her gaze.
In the distance, atop a towering mountain,
Countless blood-colored lightning bolts erupted into existence, illuminating the silent night.
A crimson radiance surged upward, dyeing the entire sky into a sea of blood.
The sight left all who witnessed it frozen, as if struck by lightning, their breathing halting entirely.
And just as suddenly as it began—
It ended.
The earthquake ceased.
At some unknown moment, Acheron's figure had already appeared before them.
"Acheron, you're back!"
Little Yao leapt forward happily into her arms.
Acheron did not dodge.
She simply allowed it.
Song Qianqian, however, looked at her with curiosity.
"Acheron, what exactly did you go do?"
"Nothing."
Acheron shook her head expressionlessly, offering no further explanation.
At that moment, a gentle breeze brushed past her forehead, revealing her face fully beneath the light.
Song Qianqian's pupils contracted.
She had never seen Acheron like this before.
On that usually cold, indifferent face—
There lingered faint traces of indescribable sorrow.
As though she carried the weight of a thousand years of loneliness.
Even the crimson tear marks at the corners of her eyes bore the marks of time itself.
Just as Song Qianqian was about to speak—
Their bodies dissolved into countless motes of light, scattering into the void with the wind.
…
What Song Qianqian and the others did not know—
Was that the phenomenon just now had already thrown the entire Tianlan Continent into chaos.
The sky itself had split open.
An abyssal canyon stretched across the land, as though a god had cleaved the world in two with a single strike—
Dividing the continent into eastern and western halves.
No one knew how it had formed.
They only knew one thing—
The aura of death permeating the rift was so dense it felt tangible, forcing all who approached to recoil in terror.
Every cultivator who attempted to explore its depths—
Never returned.
Thus, the world came to name it—
The Rift of Death.