Marvel With Zanpakutou

Chapter 775: Enlil’s Advice

It is a thousand swords, yet it is a thought.

The vast intent of the sword penetrates heaven and earth, transforming into hundreds of beams of starlight that fall, causing the seas of clouds in all directions to churn and the raging wind and thunder to stir.

Countless stars in the sky tremble, teetering on the brink of falling. The dawn’s light and the clouds’ shadows cleave through tens of thousands of feet of the void. The world seems to turn into a tattered and empty scroll, where the dark chasms left behind ooze out remnants of sharp sword energy.

Enveloping the planet’s surface, the thick rust-red atmosphere is almost entirely driven away by hundreds of beams of sword light, and long-missed sunlight showers down on the surface, bringing a final touch of warmth to this sinister and cold planet.

With a sigh...

Bathed in the warm sunlight, Lord, in his unblemished white robe, stands in the void like a celestial being descended to the mortal realm. The rich intent of his sword gradually dissipates as he gazes down at the scene wrought by his sword.

Following the lingering sword energy.

A massive chasm, approximately a million miles in diameter and unfathomably deep, seems to split the entire planet.

From the depths of this great rift, magma gushes out thousands of feet high like fiery dragons, emitting copious amounts of black smoke. The ocean of liquid iron elements is directly evaporated by the sword’s energy, turning into a rugged and uneven land.

It’s finally over...

But the consumption was terrifying.

Lord’s expression does not hide his fatigue; his spiritual power is nearly depleted.

After unexpectedly evoking resonance with all things, the sword technique he had used saw his spiritual pressure consumption skyrocket dozens of times. Had he not forcibly drawn on the spiritual power of two worlds at the last moment, he might have been drained dry before he could even unleash that strike.

The ruptured planetary crust violently compresses, spewing out high-pressure airflows and glowing columns of magma.

Huge chunks of rock, weighing millions of tons, are launched into the sky by the magma erupting from the planet’s core and then exploding into fiery meteors as they cool rapidly in the atmosphere, scattering in all directions.

From afar, this scene resembles fireworks during the summer season.

Watching this, the dazzling bursts of light continuously explode, casting their brilliant light deep into Lord’s eyes, prompting him to recall a line from a poem from his previous life, aptly described: "Like an endless festival of lights, fireworks dance to welcome the New Year."

"I haven’t seen it in a long time..."

Lord slowly raises his hand, his fingers curling as if to capture that beautiful scene in his palm.

Thousands of sparks dance gracefully like sprites of flame.

A planet on the brink of oblivion bursts forth with unparalleled beauty.

He does not miss the fireworks, but rather, he longs for his homeland.

Lord sighs softly, slowly lowering his hand.

No matter how much he yearns, he can no longer return. A traveller might have a day of return, but he is forever without a homeland.

Within his range of spiritual pressure sensing, a faint life signal emerges.

Surprised, Lord instantly follows the source of the life signal, stepping onto a dried-up, cracked riverbed, where he finds Enlil, only his upper body intact, his chest faintly rising and falling, his eyes dim.

"You... should go now."

Enlil, half-stepped through death’s door, looks pretty calm upon his arrival, his face showing no trace of fear: "This planet will soon be destroyed, and to prevent Ghroth from escaping, we will reseal Him and return to the void of space after our death."

Even until the end, Enlil does not forget the duty of the Akkadian people.

Ghroth cannot be destroyed. Even if the entire planet is annihilated, He would still be reborn on another planet. Thus, the only way to contain Ghroth is to seal Him within an earth eternally.

Only the Akkadians can seal Ghroth.

Akkad has taken on this duty; their people will forever live sealed in the void of space alongside Ghroth.

"Do you have any other wishes?"

Lord respects Enlil’s final choice, and after a moment of silence, he says, "Whatever it is, as long as it’s within my power, I will do my best to fulfil it, as a... sign of respect to you."

"No need, I have no more wishes."

Enlil smiles and shakes his head: "I only hope you will keep your promise to protect them until they are grown. That is enough for me."

Those twenty-two children inheriting the Akkadian bloodline are his last wishes, the final seeds of Akkad. A civilisation once magnificent, carrying the supreme lineage of demigods, can grow in peace and security, which satisfies him greatly.

Akkad... still exists!

No matter how many years pass, their beliefs and glory will be passed down by someone.

"I promised you, and I will not break my word."

Lord looks into Enlil’s eyes, solemnly saying, "As long as I live, the lineage of Akkad will not end. All beings will forever pass down and remember Your glory and legends."

"No... no need..."

Enlil laughs weakly, shaking his head: "We have done many wrong things; it’s better not to let everyone remember us. Let Akkad disappear into history, along with its glory and faults. It no longer means anything now."

Lord is silent, merely sighing softly.

Since this is Akkad’s choice, he naturally has no right to interfere as an outsider.

Perhaps this is for the best...

Let them be buried by the sands of history along with Akkad, whether right or wrong.

Hatred, betrayal, abandonment, anger, resentment... the past need not be pursued further today.

"By the way, I forgot to tell you something."

Enlil suddenly remembers something, laboriously raises his hand, and shakily points towards Lord: "Although I’m not clear on the real cause of the War in Heaven, I know they came looking for something."

Looking for something?

Lord pauses, stepping closer to hold Enlil’s hand.

"I’ve seen it once."

Enlil’s eyes grow dim and dull, his voice fading: "During the sacrifice to Ghroth, He showed me that thing. I can’t describe it in words, so I can only roughly sketch it."

He struggles to move a finger, slowly drawing in his palm.

It just took a few strokes, but for Enlil, it seemed extremely difficult. He has to pause for a long time every few centimetres he moves. Blood vessels on his body keep bursting, with blood flowing out from his fingertips.

"It’s... this..."

Enlil insists on finishing the last stroke, his eyes losing their last glint of light, his head drooping helplessly.

Boom!