Tower: Rebirth of the Absolute Demon-Chapter 73: Ch : Phantom of the Abyss

Ye Tian smirked.

"Alright then. Watch closely."

He raised his hand, counting down with deliberate slowness.

"Three..."

"Two..."

"One..."

The moment his countdown ended, an overwhelming pressure descended upon them.

It was immense, suffocating, and undeniable.

The golden clouds that had filled the Starry Plains parted abruptly, swept away by the sheer force of the presence that now dominated the void.

***

The once tranquil Starry Plains had fallen into eerie silence, yet the atmosphere buzzed with an unsettling presence.

Something—or someone—had intruded upon this void, distorting the flow of space itself.

Ye Tian stood firm, his sharp gaze sweeping across the endless darkness.

Then, with a smirk, he cupped his hands around his mouth and called out, his voice filled with teasing arrogance.

"Come on out, babygirl! No need to hide from us. We won’t bite—well, maybe just a little."

Ye Zhao’s eye twitched. His grip on his sword tightened as he turned to glare at his brother. "...The hell did you just say?"

But Ye Tian only grinned, his crimson eyes glimmering with mischief.

Despite the apparent levity in his words, his posture remained unwavering, sharp as a drawn blade.

He continued scanning the surroundings, but no response came.

Not a flicker of movement. Not even the faintest whisper of a presence.

Ye Zhao furrowed his brows, gripping the hilt of his sword as his instincts screamed at him.

His mind raced, his senses straining to catch any sign of their mysterious adversary. Yet, the void remained still.

And then, something changed.

Ye Tian closed his eyes, his smirk never faltering. He simply stood there, unmoving, arms crossed. Silent.

"...Brother?" Ye Zhao muttered, his confusion growing.

"What are we supposed to do?"

No response.

Ye Zhao frowned. Something was off. An unnatural sense of distance had formed between them.

Even though they stood barely a few feet apart, it felt as if Ye Tian was somewhere else entirely, as if an invisible barrier had been erected, separating them.

Ye Tian’s aura began to dwindle.

Slowly, the suffocating pressure he had been radiating... the energy that had been enough to oppress the entirety of the Starry Plains—began to shrink.

The vast ocean of power reduced itself, compressing further and further until it was no more than a thin, delicate veil, its thickness comparable to a single strand of hair.

Ye Zhao clenched his fists, resisting the urge to speak.

He could see it... his brother’s energy wasn’t just shrinking, it was being drained.

But Ye Tian showed no sign of concern. He merely waited.

And then—he tilted his head slightly to the right.

A small, almost imperceptible movement.

Yet, it made Ye Zhao’s heart skip a beat.

"What...?" he muttered under his breath, scanning the same area.

But there was nothing.

No presence.

No fluctuation in the void.

Nothing that could have prompted such a reaction.

Until he saw it.

A thin line of red trailing down Ye Tian’s chin.

A droplet of blood, glistening under the dim starlight, swelled at the edge of his jaw before falling into the abyss.

Ye Zhao’s breath caught in his throat.

His brother was injured.

A chill ran down his spine as he instinctively summoned his sword, its blade shimmering with divine energy.

His stance hardened, his muscles tensed. Eyes darting frantically, he scanned the surroundings.

But there was nothing.

"Brother!" he shouted, the urgency clear in his voice.

"Where did the attack come from?! Tell me!"

Ye Tian, however, merely chuckled.

Lifting his gaze, he side-eyed something to his left—something only he could see.

A cold, knowing smile curved his lips.

"How long," he mused...

"are you planning to keep that scythe next to my face?"

Ye Zhao’s blood ran cold.

What—?

His grip tightened around his sword’s hilt as his mind raced.

He saw nothing. He sensed nothing. Yet, his brother’s words carried absolute certainty.

Clank.

A sharp, metallic sound echoed through the void, faint yet deafening in the silence.

A low, guttural chuckle followed—a laugh that began as a whisper but gradually grew.

Slow. Mocking. Rising into a twisted cackle that rattled the very air around them.

And then—the veil of invisibility shattered.

A scythe emerged from the void.

Monstrous. Unholy.

It radiated a dark, purplish aura, its edges pulsating with raw, corruptive energy.

The weapon’s very existence seemed to warp the space around it, as if reality itself was rejecting its presence.

Ye Tian’s face was illuminated by the ominous glow of the weapon, its blade mere inches from his throat.

Yet, he had only suffered a minor graze.

A single misstep—a single breath’s difference—and he would have lost his head.

Then came the voice.

"Good job finding me, lad," it rasped, filled with amusement.

"Say, how about you become my knight?"

Ye Zhao tensed.

The voice was Hollow. Unnatural.

It carried an eerie weight, as if it had whispered from beyond the veil of death itself.

Moments later, the figure holding the scythe began to materialize.

The being that had been lurking in the void became visible.

And it was as one would imagine the Grim Reaper to be.

A towering entity wreathed in purplish-black flames.

A skeletal figure clad in a tattered black robe, its entire form exuding an aura of dread.

The void trembled beneath its presence, and the very fabric of existence seemed to writhe in protest.

Ye Tian merely smirked.

"Heh? You want me to become your knight?" he scoffed.

"You mean the disciple of someone who barely understands the true meaning of death?"

The entity’s flames flickered.

"...Hah?" it growled, its hollow voice tinged with irritation.

"I am the **God of Death**, you fool."

Ye Tian tilted his head.

"God of Death?" he echoed, his smirk widening. "More like the so-called Apostle of Death."

His voice lowered, turning razor-sharp.

"Or should I call you... the Gatekeeper of the White Dungeon?"

A pause.

And then—laughter.

A deep, thunderous cackle that sent shockwaves through the void.

"BAHAHAHAHAHA!"

The entity’s flames flared wildly, its skeletal jaw splitting into a grotesque grin.

"Goodness, you recognize me?" it rasped, delighted.

"Too bad though—**I can’t let you live.** It’s either you or me."

Ye Tian slowly lifted his hand.

And with a flick of his finger...

Clink.

The scythe shattered.

The weapon that had reaped countless souls—the blade that exuded the power of death itself—crumbled into dust.

The entity froze.

Ye Tian’s smirk turned menacing.

"...Say what?" he murmured, his voice carrying the weight of absolute dominance.

The void trembled.

The reaper’s flaming eyes burned with disbelief.

Visit freewe𝑏(n)ovel.co(m) for the b𝘦st novel reading experience