The Cycle's Void Epoch

Era of Nothingness, the End.

"Roar—"

The Chaos Demon God King, with six arms on his back, let out a roar. The terrifying soundwave turned into visible ripples spreading in all directions, grinding the stars within tens of thousands of miles into dust.

As the strongest of the demon god race, he possessed earth-shaking power... On his towering body, hundreds of feet tall, countless demonic runes squirmed like living creatures, and each breath caused the void to tremble. By constantly defeating and devouring his own kind, he had become a being feared by all.

But now, he was once again facing the brink of destruction.

For the first time in his life, he felt such fear.

"Why? You damn bastard, why do you keep getting in my way!" The Demon God King's four eyes simultaneously unleashed black beams filled with destructive energy, his roar twisting the space around him.

The chieftain of the Celestial God race... his only threat in this world.

"It's over."

The chieftain's wings behind him burst with endless radiance. His form turned into lightning, his spear effortlessly dispelling the terrifying attacks before piercing through the Demon God King’s chest like a blade.

Boom—

A terrible surge of energy erupted from within the Demon God King's body, blasting his massive form into a rain of flesh and blood.

Blood poured down like a storm, each drop of demonic blood containing terrifying corrosive energy, hissing and sizzling in the void.

The chieftain was not in good shape either. Though his wings had shielded his body, they were scorched by the boiling demonic blood, emitting wisps of white smoke as large patches of his pure white wings turned blackened and charred.

After the Demon God King was shattered, his flesh still writhed, attempting to reform...

"Priestess," the chieftain called out.

A sky-obscuring formation appeared above, carrying the collective will of the entire Celestial God race, pressing down upon the scattered chunks of flesh on the ground. The flesh was crushed into even finer pulp, yet even now, the pulp stubbornly twisted and pulsed within the terrifying gravitational field.

"Purify."

With a soft command from the Priestess, sacred white flames ignited, burning the remains into ash.

The Priestess quickly moved to the chieftain's side, a holy glow shining in her hands as she healed his wounds. Her delicate fingers lightly brushed over the scorched wings, the light rippling like water.

"Are you alright? That was too reckless." The Priestess scolded softly.

"This is nothing."

The chieftain shook his head, then looked out into the boundless void.

Everywhere were traces of battle. The bodies of the Celestial God and Demon God races lay scattered across the battlefield, broken wings and twisted demon limbs intertwined.

The two races had been in constant conflict... This had become a familiar sight.

In the vast emptiness, only the chieftain and the Priestess remained.

Strangely enough, the lifeless corpses of the Celestial Gods and Demon Gods—the scattered limbs and severed body parts—were slowly moving, returning to their original bodies and owners.

Soon, all the Celestial Gods and Demon Gods would be restored.

Even the Chaos Demon God King, already burned to ash, was no exception. His will had begun to re-form somewhere in the void, and upon his next rebirth, he would become even stronger.

The Era of Nothingness—there was no concept of ordinary death.

Only when one’s power was consumed did true annihilation occur.

In the beginning, the numbers of the Demon God and Celestial God races were far greater than now.

The Demon Gods devoured each other to grow stronger; to counter them, the Celestial Gods developed a sacrificial art that could erase consciousness and wholly transfer one’s power to another tribesman.

This cycle repeated until today, when both races had dwindled in number but grown immensely in strength.

Now, only the last elites remained, each individual bearing the power of countless deceased kin.

The Demon Gods were born driven by a murderous instinct, impossible to negotiate with, leaving no room for peace. The Celestial Gods had no choice but to face cruel decisions time and again to survive.

Every hundred years, a massive war erupted between the two races.

"Priestess... I am weary."

The chieftain's wings had regained their former divine luster, but a trace of melancholy showed in his expression. "This cycle seems to have no end..."

"Chieftain, this is your duty..."

The Priestess slowly embraced him, pressing her cheek against his chest.

"If you are tired, you can pass part of your power to me. From now on, I will protect you and the Celestial God race," she said softly, her gaze growing resolute.

The chieftain slowly shook his head, his fingers brushing through her golden hair. "If I, strong as I am, find this burdensome, you, who dislike conflict, would only suffer more. That weight should not fall on you."

Then, the chieftain sighed. "When chaos first divided, it created the Demon God and Celestial God races—yin and yang in balance... At this rate, one day the Demon God King will devour all his kin. If by then our Celestial God race lacks the resolve for total sacrifice, we will surely be defeated."

"Then..." the Priestess bit her lip.

She understood the implication: To gain enough power to match a fully formed Demon God King, the chieftain would need to inherit the power of all Celestial Gods, including hers.

She had received the sacrifice of many tribesmen to attain her current strength. To prevail against the Demon God King in the next battle, her power was indispensable.

If she refused to sacrifice herself, even united, she and the chieftain would likely not be a match for the Demon God King.

It wasn't that she feared destruction. As a Celestial God, she had long been prepared to sacrifice herself for others... She simply felt that she would never see the chieftain again, never feel the warmth of his embrace, never watch the radiance of his wings. That loneliness weighed on her heart.

"The rules of this world are too flawed." The chieftain’s gaze swept across the endless void, reflecting the shattered stars. "It shouldn't be like this."

"Then how should it be?" the Priestess asked, looking up with a hint of confusion in her eyes.

"When a person is killed, they die—and after death, they should not revive," the chieftain said, his expression unchanged as he watched the Celestial Gods and Demon Gods around him beginning to restore themselves. "Life should be as brief as a shooting star, yet brilliant—never a prisoner of eternal cycles. The world should always change, entrusting life and hope to new generations, instead of endlessly repeating war and slaughter..."

"I don't quite understand," the Priestess shook her head. "Chieftain, I just want to be with you forever... That’s impossible if we die."

The chieftain looked down at the Priestess in his arms, his gaze softening, a warm smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

"Priestess, perhaps one day, you will understand."