The Heavenly Demon of Terror-Chapter 335: Threshold of Oblivion’s Heart

Samuel's POV

I stood at the edge of the final voidbridge, the gate's energy humming through my veins like a live wire. Behind me lay the power of four Forgotten Gods—Aegror's Ruin, Vireon's Dominion, Callagadra's Sandstorm, and Skarnyx's Hollow Howl—bound within my flesh and bone. Ahead of me yawned the final trial: the realm of Lyrhigor, Forgotten God of Silence and Eternity.

The realm was a mausoleum of echoing tears.

No wind stirred. No sound—save the distant drip of obsidian tears that fell into a bottomless chasm. The sky above was a perfect void, impenetrable. Beneath my boots, the stone path vanished into black nothingness at the edges. In the misshapen horizon, I saw his throne: a monolith of glass and shadow, towering like a jaw of night.

---

[System Notification – Final Realm Accessed]

Realm Name: The Silent Sepulcher

Host: Lyrhigor, God of Silence & Eternity

Threat Level: Transcendental (Beyond Apex+)

Objective: Defeat Lyrhigor and absorb the Final Godcore

Reward: Forsaken Crown Complete (+Mystery Final Reward)

Warning: Silence here is absolute. Words, thoughts, even magic may vanish.

---

I inhaled once. My gauntlets flatlined—no humming, no crackle. The silence of this place pushed against my insides like liquid weight.

"Lyrhigor," I called, voice dull in my own skull. "Show yourself."

No reply. Only the drip-drip of tears.

I took a cautious step forward. Immediately, the path behind me dissolved into nothingness. The gate had sealed.

"Great," I muttered. "Trapped in a soundproof coffin. That's original."

A pulse of power ran through the air. The tears stilled. Then the throne room's great doors—massive slabs of obsidian—shimmered and slid open without a sound.

I entered.

Inside, the chamber was vast—an endless coliseum of black marble. The floor bore concentric sigils, each one inscribed with runes so old they predated stars. Their glow was faint—like dying embers refusing to go out.

At the center stood Lyrhigor.

Not a creature of flesh or flame, but a vessel of absence. His body was a void draped in ragged veils of darkness that fluttered without wind. Where his face should have been, there was only an obsidian mask, unbroken, unyielding. His six arms each held a different instrument of undoing: a sword that swallowed light, a staff that reversed time, a bell that rang without tone, and three others I couldn't name.

No eyes, no mouth—nothing.

And yet... I felt him. A chill in my bones. A pressure in my mind.

"Welcome, Harbinger," his voice rumbled—not through ears, but through the marrow of my bones. "You carry the weight of gods within you. But can you carry the weight of nihility?"

"I carry more than weight," I replied, rolling my shoulders. "I carry fury."

Lyrhigor lifted the untuned bell. With a motion as smooth as death, he struck it. The hollow ring should have been inaudible here—but instead, it unspoke the world.

My vision dimmed. My heartbeat stuttered. Words I'd ever known—commands, spells, even my name—vanished from consciousness. I tried to think: "Defeat him!" The thought disintegrated mid-form, leaving only blank dread.

"Silence is power," Lyrhigor intoned. "And power is silence."

I stumbled, trying to steady myself. Then I clenched my fists, summoning Devourer's Pulse, but the instinct to speak the incantation just died in my throat.

There was no speech. No magic. Just raw will.

I slammed both gauntlets into the ground, igniting a shockwave of Abyssflame that carved through the sigils. The runes flared—and for a fleeting moment, I felt my voice return long enough to growl:

"Fuck your silence!"

The words burned in my mind like neon. The shockwave erupted, tearing cracks in the marble floor. Dust and ash swirled as Lyrhigor's veils whipped around him, buffeted by the blast.

He did not flinch.

Lyrhigor raised the void-sword. With a slash, he cut a swath through the chamber. The wound bent light around it, warping space so that I felt like I was falling upward.

He gestured, and shards of fractured memories—visions of every pain I'd ever felt, every friend I'd ever lost—materialized around me. Each echo screamed silently, their faces contorted by sorrow and rage.

My mind screamed. My heart hammered.

"Consume them," Lyrhigor's silent voice echoed in my mind. "Absorb their despair."

My instinct was to let the memories drown me—why not? I'd felt worse. But I forced my eyes open, blistering with fury. Drawing on Soul Echo: Wrathforge, I flared my aura with a pulse of red light.

The memories fled—screaming as they dissolved in my fire. I roared—my first true sound here—and punched the nearest specter, shattering it with a fist of pure voidsteel.

The next slash of the sword sent more shards flying. I sprinted under it, propelled by Voidstep, and slammed my gauntlet into Lyrhigor's midsection. Fleshless though he was, the impact jolted him.

Lyrhigor's six arms shifted. He brandished a staff crowned with an unlit lantern. He swung it, and darkness exploded outward, swallowing the entire chamber. I was blind.

But I could feel him.

I closed my eyes, trusting the echoes of my own heartbeat. My hands moved—pulling out Astral Rend, carving a slash through the void in front of me. A wave of starfire swept forward, burning through the emptiness like a blade.

When the light returned, I saw Lyrhigor stagger—his staff cracked, the lantern shattered.

I charged, fists blazing. Every strike ignited the Abyssflame, every gauntlet blow unleashed voidsteel arcs. My Unbroken Form roared to life, repairing my wounds almost as fast as I took them.

He attempted another assault, summoning silent blades that whirled around me, slicing fragments of reality away. I wound up a massive right punch, Reality Sever humming, and exploded outward in a pillar of flame and darkness.

For an instant, everything stopped. The broken throne room, the floating shards, even time itself hung still. And I felt it again:

The heartbeat.

Not Lyrhigor's. Mine. My own life pulse—steady, defiant.

I realized the truth: Lyrhigor fed on silence, on absence, on lost echoes. But he could never still my heartbeat. Not while I stood.

I roared, channeling every ounce of Soul Echo: Wrathforge. My form blurred with that terrible power—half human, half cataclysm. I sprinted directly at him, gauntlets colliding with his obsidian mask.

Crack.

The mask cracked in two.

The Noise returned. The storm of sound shattered the sealed void. I heard the thunder crash, the welt of shattered marble, my own ragged breath.

Lyrhigor staggered.

He tried to raise his arms—six of them—but his veins of silence bled away under the assault of my chaosblade.

"Your silence... ends... now!" I screamed as my final blow landed, fist laced with every godcore I'd absorbed—Aegror's despair, Vireon's dominion, Callagadra's storm, Skarnyx's howl, and the Fury of my own broken soul.

The mask shattered in my gauntlet—black glass fragments spiraling into nothing. His body peeled back like dying smoke, revealing a tiny flicker of light: the Final Godcore.

I grasped it.

Silence died.

The Voidbridge reappeared behind me. The gate's energy returned to my gauntlets. The system interface shimmered.

---

[System Notification – Final God Defeated]

Lyrhigor, Forgotten God of Silence & Eternity – Vanquished

Final Godcore Acquired

Forsaken Crown Complete

New Title: Monarch of Echoing Desolation

Mystery Reward Unlocked: Legacy of the Crownbearer

Return to Base Realm? Y/N

---

I stood in the wreckage of eternity, the Final Godcore pulsing in my hand like a newborn star. My chest heaved. The echo of my heartbeat sounded like thunder in my ears.

I smiled—blood and ash streaked across my face.

"Y," I said to the system.

The ground fell away, the voidbridge lit, and the world of mortal realms reformed around me.

I was Samuel Gebb.

Harbinger of Destruction. Void-Walker. Trial Challenger.

And now...

Monarch of Echoing Desolation.

I tucked the Godcore into my sash and whispered, "Let's see what this crown can do."