The Rich Cultivator

Exactly Seven Days Later...

The sky above was riddled with moons—seven thousand, maybe eight, thousand some cracked, some pulsing faintly like eerie lanterns. The ground beneath their feet was a tortured landscape, twisted by time and corrupted by chaos. Pools of lava bubbled like boiling blood, and skeletal trees reached toward the heavens like they were praying for mercy.

Static glitches pulsed across the air, tearing faint lines in space itself—signs that reality in this part of the Abyss was unstable. Then, in the middle of this hellish wasteland, several figures blinked into existence. Tyler, Adam, Dusk, Dawn, and the others had arrived.

"After we cross this stretch of purgatory, we’ll reach their main camp," Adam said, his eyes scanning the horizon.

Tyler rubbed the back of his neck. "So the plan really is just to walk into their camp and fight Apollo head-on?"

"There’s no other way," Adam replied flatly. "That guy’s senses are too sharp. And his armour is practically invincible. An ambush would fail before it even began. Dusk and I will handle Apollo."

Tyler sighed. "Alright. Guess I’ll stall the giant, then."

"I’ll take care of that vixen," Dawn said, cracking her knuckles. "She’s been itching for a beating."

"We’ll deal with their subordinates," Lily chimed in with a nod.

But Dawn’s eyes narrowed. "You’ll also face Night. That thing in the armor... it’s more shadow than man."

Their conversation was cut short—barely seconds had passed—when a rumble split the air. A mountain—yes, a mountain—was flying toward them, carried through the sky by an unseen force. Its peak glowed like a burning beacon, radiating demonic aura.