This internal spiraling rebound of the Spirit is more lethal than any external attack.
Delir felt his consciousness being torn into countless fragments, each one enduring unimaginable pain.
Meanwhile, Kempes was experiencing equally bad conditions.
His body, scattered across multiple spatial layers, began losing synchronization, and each part underwent a varying degree of explosion.
"No... impossible... how can this essence be..."
Kempes’s voice echoed simultaneously from a dozen dimensions, each trembling with agony:
"This is a trap... that venomous Nari..."
Before he could finish speaking, a second wave of explosions swept through his spatial network.
The originally stable multi-dimensional existence began to collapse, as body parts from different spatial layers clashed.
The left hand tried to grasp the right hand, but they existed in different dimensions;
The head attempted to command the body, but spatial turbulence completely severed the transmission of information;
His consciousness started to split into multiple independent segments, each one believing it was the true Kempes.
Kro’s plight was most bizarre.
As a Time Manipulation expert, his body’s structure was deeply bound to the flow of time.
When Nari’s aura of Chaos erupted within him, the generated Chaos Energy disrupted his time perception, trapping him in a nightmare of time loops.
"This moment... feels like I’ve gone through it countless times..."
Kro painfully realized that he was stuck in the instant of the explosion.
Time for him was no longer a tool he could manipulate but had transformed into a cage torturing him.
He repeatedly suffered the same agony:
Feeling the explosion, realizing the trap, attempting to escape, then returning to the explosion’s starting point.
Each cycle doubled the pain, and he clearly remembered every experience.
The tragic condition of the three Apostles immediately caught the attention of other survivors in the arena.
Those Abyssal Creatures who were initially fighting over Void Essence suddenly realized a new opportunity.
"Look quickly! Those Apostles are heavily injured!"
A demon with seven eyes on its head exclaimed excitedly:
"This is a once-in-a-lifetime chance! Apostle-level flesh and Energy Core!"
"Charge ahead! Before they recover!"
The Awakened surged forward like sharks that smelled blood.
Wounded strong ones are the best prey.
No matter how formidable the opponent usually is, once a weakness is revealed, they are immediately besieged.
But the real threat came from those at the Apostle Level as well.
Gulping Mouth Harlem slowly crawled out from the arena’s ruins.
Its entire body is a massive mouth filled with layers of teeth.
Every tooth flickers with a different light, representing the powerful beings it had once devoured.
"What a delicious aroma..."
Harlem groaned with satisfaction:
"Apostle-level despair... pain... and that kind of helpless anger... truly the world’s most delightful seasoning..."
It began crawling toward Delir, its gigantic mouth secreting corrosive saliva.
This saliva not only digests matter but also breaks down the Spirit structure, keeping the prey conscious while being devoured.
Meanwhile, "Flesh Stitcher" Nicholas, who arrived later, also showed a greedy expression.
He was most intrigued by Kempes’s multi-dimensional body structure.
"What a perfect design..."
Nicholas muttered to himself while observing:
"If such spatial separation technology could be transplanted onto my creations... it would forge an unprecedentedly perfect stitching form..."
As for Kro, he caught the eye of "Sweet Nightmare" Sarlin.
This entity, which appears as a beautiful maiden, is actually one of the most dangerous mental predators in the Abyss.
"Time loops... what an interesting mental state..."
Sarlin licked her lips, her eyes gleaming with a morbid excitement:
"A time manipulator trapped in a cycle of pain... this will be the most precious artwork in my collection..."
Three Apostles, once majestic, have now become the target of many.
Countless greedy eyes fixated on them, waiting for the optimal moment to attack.
In the Abyss, nothing triggers predator instincts more than injured strong ones.
Delir barely regained some consciousness and saw the predators lurking around, filled with despair and rage.
"Damn Nari... damn trap..."
He tried to gather his scattered internal Spirit, but discovered that most vengeful Spirits had already defected.
Those who he once enslaved now turned to become tormenting spirits.
Even more terrifying, Nari’s aura of Chaos continued its erosion.
This power from the Innate Apostle was fundamentally disrupting his existence structure.
If not quickly addressed, he would never be able to return to his original state.
"Harlem... Sarlin... Nicholas..."
Delir looked at the approaching predators, his voice filled with desperate anger:
"You bastard... do you think we’re truly powerless to strike back..."
But before he could finish his words, the Gulping Mouth had opened its enormous jaws, preparing to swallow him whole.
"Stop struggling, Delir."
Harlem’s voice carried a cruel satisfaction:
"Accept the reality... in the Abyss, the weak are food. This is the eternal law..."
Just at the moment of life and death, a dazzling light suddenly erupted from the ruins.
The remaining strength within Delir was fully activated under extreme danger.