"The avatar was completely annihilated, and the connection with the main body was severed...
Fortunately, I was prepared, having dispersed part of my consciousness into the core, otherwise, even the main body would have been severely damaged."
Mr. Holy Disc looked around, trying to identify his exact location.
But in the Maze Domain, direction and distance are relative concepts, and even the passage of time differs.
"I must find an exit quickly, return to the Surface World..."
He muttered to himself, his voice tinged with urgency: "The plan cannot be interrupted like this..."
It was then that the surrounding space suddenly twisted.
The walls rippled like water waves, the black substance beneath the ground began boiling, emitting a teeth-clenching hissing sound.
A suffocating pressure attacked from all sides, even the air became viscous, as difficult to flow as coagulated blood.
Mr. Holy Disc’s pupils shrank abruptly, a flash of fear etched deep in his soul appeared on his face.
This was an energy fluctuation he knew too well—the presence several layers stronger than him was approaching!
"Throne Holder..."
His voice trembled, those aberrant eyes spinning madly, seemingly searching for an escape route.
Yet, in the Maze Domain, escape was futile.
Especially when facing the true Abyssal Dominators.
The space shattered like glass, revealing the endless void behind.
A shadow gradually emerged from the rift.
Its form was so immense that Mr. Holy Disc had to look up to see its outline.
"Kneel, my servant."
A voice echoed in his mind, not a language transmitted by sound waves, but a mark directly seared onto his soul.
Mr. Holy Disc’s knees bent uncontrollably, crashing heavily onto the ground.
He didn’t even attempt to resist.
In the core region of the Abyss, facing the Supreme Apostle, any resistance was but an added joke.
The space rift continued to expand, more figures emerged from within.
They varied in form, but each exuded suffocating oppressive power.
The first to step out was a bizarre humanoid creature.
Its body was made of countless slender black threads, which constantly wove, parted, and reformed, making its shape indefinable.
The only constant was a pale spider mask, embedded at the center of its thread-woven "head".
The mask had no features, just nine vertically aligned eyes, each a different color, glimmering with mysterious light like stars in the universe.
The threads not only formed its body but extended in all directions.
They vanished into the darkness of the void, as if connecting to countless parallel worlds.
"Void Spider" Maggs—the leader of the Supreme Apostles.
Mr. Holy Disc dared not look directly at that mask, keeping his head lowered, awaiting judgment.
Behind Maggs, two more figures appeared from the space rift.
One was a slender figure covered in silver scales, her entire body clad in intricate Scale Armor, with only half her face exposed.
That half-face was stunningly beautiful, an artwork of flawless perfection, yet emanating a beauty beyond human aesthetics.
Her eyes were pure silver, without pupils, yet able to see through all illusion.
"Daughter of Metamorphosis" Isabella—intelligence authority among the Supreme Apostles.
The other defied all biological comprehension.
It appeared as a constantly shape-shifting mist, with countless tiny starlights twinkling inside.
The mist occasionally condensed into human form, sometimes dispersing into a nebula, only the gray-black heart at its center remained constant.
The heart’s surface was covered with eyes—eyes of different races, different creatures, from humans to Abyssal beings, it had them all.
Those eyes blinked incessantly, as if observing the changes of countless worlds.
"Formless Mist" Nas—the time watcher among the Supreme Apostles.
Mr. Holy Disc’s body began to tremble uncontrollably.
To simultaneously meet three Supreme Apostles, such "honor" usually meant a fate worse than death.
"Lift your head, Holy Disc."
Maggs’ voice echoed again in his mind, calm as if discussing the weather:
"You need not fear, today we summoned you to assign an important mission."
Mr. Holy Disc hesitated for a moment, then slowly lifted his head, wisely avoiding direct eye contact with the nine eyes on the spider mask.
"Your Eminence... I have already failed, the avatar was completely defeated by that woman Allen."
His voice was filled with remorse and fear: "I failed the expectations of the Eye of the Abyss, failed the power granted to me..."
Maggs’ thread-woven body rippled slightly, the nine eyes on the mask flickering with different lights.
"The plan was never interrupted, Holy Disc. Failure is merely a prelude to success."
His voice carried a certain transcendent tranquility:
"Allen’s interference was within my expectations, though her power is damaged, her foundation remains. Facing her, you indeed appear insufficient."
Isabella stepped forward, a slight smile emerging on her flawless half-face.