Chapter 313: The Collapse
The cultivators who weren’t fighting for their lives saw it. They saw Kael Vorn—Mana Heart Rank 8, the weakest cultivation in the entire cavern—walk directly into the Demonic Asura Lotus Flame and disappear.
The purple-black fire swallowed him whole, his silhouette warping and distorting like a mirage before vanishing completely.
Silence. Even the Fire Spirits hesitated, their burning heads turning toward the flame’s core as if sensing something profound had shifted.
Michael Weston stared, his Aegis Avatar flickering around him. His golden eyes were wide, the pupils contracting. "That moron, he walked into the flame."
Valerius Kaine stood beside him, blood trickling from a cut on his forehead. He muttered, "Either he’s insane or he knows something we don’t."
Garrett De Vorn, fighting off a Fire Spirit with his Spirit Soul aura, frowned deeply. His blade cleaved through the spirit—SLASH—dispersing it into embers, but his eyes remained fixed on the spot where Kael had disappeared. Is he crazy or what?
He had been assigned to watch Kael, to protect him if necessary. Cassandra’s orders. And now the bastard had walked into a Heavenly Flame like it was a Sunday stroll.
Claudia’s serpentine eyes narrowed to slits. Her lips curled into a hiss of frustration.
Then the flame reacted.
Inside the cocoon of fire, Kael was being burned alive. The Iceheart Fruit’s cooling energy was vanishing in seconds—hiss—the Yin power evaporating under the flame’s primordial heat like water on a molten anvil. His skin cracked. His Tier 5 body screamed in protest, every nerve ending firing simultaneously with blinding agony. His aura shield flickered—CRACK—shattered. The heat penetrated his flesh, reaching his bones.
He didn’t stop.
His hands moved, forming seals from the Nirvana Devouring Script. He infused his dark mana. A vortex of Devouring Darkness erupted from his palms—FWOOOOM—a swirling mass of consumptive energy that latched onto the flame’s spiritual essence like a parasite. The darkness began to feed.
The Flame went berserk.
It felt the parasite. It felt something trying to devour it from the inside. The dark phoenix form shattered—CRACK—the massive bird exploding into fragments of condensed fire law that scattered in every direction. The flame abandoned its majestic form, turning into a raging sea of fire that engulfed Kael completely. The purple-black fire wrapped around him, condensing, compressing, forming a massive, glowing cocoon of fire that pulsed like a beating heart.
The cocoon expanded. Twenty meters. Thirty. The sheer pressure of the flame’s concentrated rage sent shockwaves through the cavern.
Simultaneously, the sub-realm’s structure broke.
The flame had been maintaining the Domain Barrier. With its entire will now focused on crushing the insect inside its cocoon, the barrier destabilized. The purple-black dome flickered—FZZT—cracked—CRACK—and then shattered like glass. Fragments of fire law rained down, dissipating into nothing.
But the barrier’s collapse wasn’t a salvation. It was a death sentence.
The cavern ceiling began to collapse. RUMBLE. CRASH. Massive boulders of stone and embedded dwarven metal rained down, crushing cultivators who were too slow to dodge. The ground beneath them split wider, lava geysers erupting with renewed fury—FWOOOSH—spraying molten rock in unpredictable patterns.
The underground sub-realm was collapsing. The flame’s eruption had destabilized the entire pocket dimension, and without the heavenly flame holding it together, the realm was tearing itself apart.
"RUN! RUN!" The screams were deafening. Panic erupted like a disease, spreading instantly. Cultivators scrambled for the exit, trampling each other without a second thought. A peak Mana heart cultivator was shoved face-first into a lava geyser—SIZZLE—his body melting before he could even cry out. Another was crushed by falling debris—CRUNCH—even as a body cultivator, his Tier 3 body shattering like porcelain.
The Frostspine Bear Clan members shifted into partial beast forms, their bodies swelling with fur and muscle. They scaled the walls with unnatural speed, their claws digging into stone as they climbed toward the surface hole. The Heavenly Sword Pavilion cultivators drew their blades—SHING—cutting through falling debris with sword intent, creating safe corridors for their members to ascend.
The Blood River Sect members abandoned their allies without hesitation, their movement arts carrying them upward with serpentine grace. One of them kicked a slower cultivator off his ledge—thud—the man falling into the rising lava below.
Michael Weston roared, his Aegis Avatar flaring to life—WHUUUM—the golden knight expanding to shield nearby Empyrean students. Debris bounced off the massive construct like pebbles off a fortress wall. "Move! Everyone move NOW!"
Valerius Kaine slammed his palms together. Force Manipulation erupted from his body, creating invisible platforms in mid-air—HUMMM—allowing Iron Nexus members to ascend without climbing. He grunted under the strain, blood vessels bursting in his eyes from the effort.
Cassius Draven grabbed Mira and Gorff. "GO!" He carved a path through the remaining Fire Spirits with his Spirit Soul Rank 2 power, his force amplification shattering anything that got close. Gorff stumbled, his earlier arrogance completely gone, replaced by raw survival instinct. Kira Pyrebrand followed close behind, her face twisted with rage and fear. She glanced back at the massive cocoon of purple-black fire, her eyes burning with hatred. Die. Just die, you bastard. She hoped the flame consumed the bastard who killed her brother before disappearing into the smoke and falling debris.
Claudia, her arm ruined and smoking, glared at the giant cocoon. The fire pulsed with terrifying intensity, the heat radiating from it enough to melt stone. She wanted to wait. She wanted to see if the bastard survived. But the lava was rising—bubble, hiss—swallowing the ground beneath her feet. She was forced to retreat, her body flickering as she used her remaining mana to ascend.
All the surviving cultivators gathered their remaining power as they reached the barrier wall around the hole. Dozens of attacks slammed into the weakened flame barrier simultaneously—BOOM, CRASH, SLASH—techniques of every element and discipline striking with desperate fury. The barrier cracked, splintered, and then shattered—FWOOOSH—the remaining flame energy dissipating into the collapsing cavern.
Cultivators poured out of the hole like ants fleeing a flooded nest. They scrambled up the tunnel, climbing over each other, their earlier pretensions of power and prestige completely stripped away by raw terror.
Garrett reached the surface, gasping for air. He turned back, looking down into the collapsing tunnel one last time. Fire and debris filled the passage. The cocoon of purple-black fire was still visible below, pulsing steadily in the chaos. He frowned deeply, his jaw tightening. You better survive, you crazy bastard. Then he turned and ran.
Above, on the surface of the Forge Twins’ Domain, Claude and the remaining four stood waiting. Claude’s black mask obscured his face, but his posture was tense. The Clown stood beside him, grinning as always. Draxos loomed behind them, his massive frame casting a long shadow. Sebastian Vorn stood apart from the group, his arms crossed.
They frowned as they saw the barrier around the hole had already opened up. Cultivators were rushing out in fear and panic, their faces pale, their bodies bloodied and burned. Some were missing limbs. Others were dragging unconscious comrades.
The Clown tilted his head, watching the chaos with amusement. "The sub-realm is closing."
A disoriented Peak Mana Heart cultivator slammed into the Clown as he ran past, shoulder-checking him. "Get the fuck out of the way, you stupid face clown!"
The Clown’s grin widened. His hand moved with blinding speed, too fast for anyone to track. One moment he was standing still. The next, his fingers were wrapped around the cultivator’s face, his grip tight around his face. The cultivator struggled—struggle, struggle—his feet kicking, his mana flaring uselessly. The Clown’s hand began to glow with sickly green energy.
The cultivator screamed. Not from physical pain. From something far worse. His soul was being devoured. Soul power flowed from his body into the Clown in steady streams, the man’s eyes hollowing, his skin graying, his struggles weakening by the second. Feed. Feed. Feed.
A minute passed. The cultivator’s body went limp. The Clown dropped him like a discarded food wrapper. The body hit the ground with a hollow thud, completely soulless, an empty husk.
Claude turned to the Clown. "What happened?"
The Clown wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, still grinning. "Nothing good. Some stupid ass kid provoked the flame and it went berserk." He chuckled, a sound that made the passing cultivators quicken their pace.
Draxos crossed his massive arms, his demonic eyes narrowing. "What about the Viper?"
As if on cue, an injured Claudia emerged from the collapsing hole. Her left arm was blackened, her body covered in burns, her once-pristine Shadow Vatican robes reduced to tattered rags. She limped toward the group, her face twisted in pain and barely contained fury.
Sebastian’s eyes widened. "Talk about the devil."
Behind Claudia, more cultivators poured out of the hole. The tunnel was collapsing rapidly now—RUMBLE, CRASH—the stone walls crumbling inward. Some cultivators didn’t make it. Their screams echoed from below, cut short by the crushing weight of stone and fire. The hole sealed itself with a final, definitive BOOM, the entrance collapsing inward, burying everything below.
The sub-realm was gone.