The mere descent of a single foot caused the seabed rock layers within a ten-kilometer radius to heave and crack like ripples on water.
The magma flowing beneath was instantly jolted, causing it to surge backward.
Immediately after, the second, then the third... dozens of colossal feet, wreathed in leaping blue-white electric serpents and exuding space-tearing power, emerged one after another like the pillars of a giant god supporting the world, rooting themselves steadily atop the lava and ruins.
His torso slowly squeezed out of the fissure—a continuous ridge like mountains, nearly a thousand meters vast.
It was like a world-ending divine weapon forged in the Universe's furnace.
His heavy thunderous carapace was as profound as if the darkness of the Universe and the destruction of stars had been melded into one, with the flowing destructive blue-white light patterns on its surface being the only adornment.
Most breathtaking were the several pairs of Chaos Thunder Giant Wings, slowly unfurling from his back, each with a wingspan exceeding fifteen hundred meters.
The wing membranes were not solid, but composed of pure, violent, constantly appearing and disappearing spatial rifts, with plasma capable of annihilating stars flickering along the edge of each rift.
Each imperceptible flutter of the Giant Wings brought forth a low spatial roar and silently shattering spacetime folds, silently disintegrating the completely frozen matter nearby, turning it into pure energy that dissipated.
Flying Thunder Centipede!
A pure life form, controlling the Laws of space and thunder, had descended.
His absolute Domain—Abyssal Thunder Purgatory—completely enveloped the entire Challenger Deep.
His colossal head, like a lunar crater, slowly lowered with a suffocating sense of oppression. The mouthparts, covered in dense, scale-like miniature thunder barriers, slightly opened and closed.
Most Soul-stirring were his compound eyes—not a single organ, but an array composed of thousands of hexagonal, independent thunder prism units, each over ten meters in diameter.
Within each prism, independent blue-white electric light flickered, and billions of these lights circulated, converged, and reflected within the array, finally forming two focal points deep within the compound eye array, cold enough to freeze the Soul and devoid of any emotional fluctuation.
Those focal points pierced through the solidified space, pierced through Baphomet's fear, and directly pinned onto his rigid demon-god body.
A majestic, dignified mental declaration, as if formed by billions of Chaos Thunder resonating in the vacuum of the Universe, ignored all mediums and exploded directly within Baphomet's Soul core:
"In the name of thunder, cleanse your blasphemous body! With space as a prison, confine your foolish Soul! This realm is not for your deluded desires to defile!"
This was not communication; it was judgment.
Every word was like a chain of Law, coiling, burning, and imprisoning Baphomet's frozen Soul.
The Flying Thunder Centipede did not even give Baphomet any room for rebuttal.
The countless spatial rifts on his several pairs of Chaos Thunder Giant Wings instantly lit up.
Those rifts seemed to connect to the primordial source of thunder at the Universe's inception.
Zzz—
There was no sound, or rather, sound itself was instantly erased.
Billions of blue-white threads, tens of thousands of times finer than a strand of hair, condensed beyond the material state, and entirely composed of pure spatial annihilation rules and thunderous destructive energy, shot out silently yet with atomic precision from every spatial rift on the Giant Wings.
These thunder threads were not lightning; they were instruments for executing the Law.
The thunder threads instantly wove into a net of spatial annihilation, covering the entire battlefield, all-encompassing, and absolutely inescapable.
The net touched—Puff!
There was no process whatsoever!
Whether a monster was a few meters tall or tens of meters tall, as soon as it was grazed by a single thunder thread, the spatial coordinates constituting its material existence were directly erased at the Law level.
Their bodies, as if wiped away from a painting with the highest precision eraser, instantly transformed into pure, residue-free Void Realm.
Not even a whimper or a wisp of smoke was left behind.
The net of spatial annihilation swept across the edge of the gigantic pale-white light hole!
Om... Woo... —
The light hole, like a massive jellyfish fiercely stung by a poisonous barb, violently contracted, convulsed, and distorted inward!
The surging evil energy currents and struggling colossal shadows within instantly let out silent, agonizing wails beyond pain!
The edge of the light hole became extremely unstable, flickering and shattering wildly like a projection with a bad signal.
The stable passage that once connected two worlds disintegrated inch by inch under the direct strike of planetary-level power.
An unprecedented, profound fear, originating from the very essence of dimension, frantically transmitted through the Light hole on the verge of collapse.
It no longer attempted to expand or maintain itself but desperately tried to shrink, collapse, and escape from this coordinate point that was about to be utterly destroyed, at all costs.
It felt like a greedy thief who had just pried open a vault door, only to find a cold, star-destroying mech waiting inside.
Within the Domain of Chaos Thunder Purgatory, all Chaos and smoke were forcibly erased, leaving behind only absolute clarity and silence.
In the central area, only three existences remained:
Uka, like a shattered dark gold leaf vein, was embedded in the edge of the lava pit.
The firefly of life flickered in his hollow, charred chest, each faint glimmer potentially extinguishing.
Baphomet, held rigidly in place by an invisible cage woven from spatial Law, like a sacrificial beast pinned to a chopping block.
His rigid great axe, "World Splitter," was merely three millimeters from Uka's head, the molten cracks on its blade glaring in the solidified stillness.
All his proud demon-god Divine Might, his ambition to conquer other realms, and his blind faith in the "prophet" were now crushed by absolute power, leaving only the solidified, maximally amplified ultimate fear of unknown annihilation in his compound eyes.
He even felt his very will and existence begin to slowly "evaporate" under the gaze of those thunder prism eyes.
The Flying Thunder Centipede, his thousand-meter thunderous body like the backbone supporting spacetime, quietly floated before Baphomet.
The destructive beams circulating within his thunder prism units coldly locked onto and analyzed Baphomet's every cell, every wisp of fear.
The Thunder Giant Wings subtly adjusted their angle, and the blue-white thunder plasma flowing within the spatial rifts began to heat, compress, and converge to a single point.
A trace of light, pure as the genesis thunder at the Universe's dawn, was gestating and illuminating deep within the rift at the wingtip.
The darkest corner of the entire Mariana Trench fell into a Soul-freezing, infinitely stretched silence.
Only the core of the ultimate destructive thunder sphere, forming deep within the Thunder Giant Wings, occasionally emitted faint, space-tearing "crackling" sounds.
The deepest part of Blue Star's ocean became the execution ground where supreme power enforced the cold Laws of the Universe.
Baphomet's fate pointer was frozen at the last instant of annihilation to zero.