The atmosphere within the Inverted Tower had warped beyond recognition, distorted by the sheer collision of opposing energies.
Duke Mordent lay crumpled amidst the wreckage at the base of the tower. His deep-purple ceremonial robes—once symbols of absolute, unshakeable authority—were now nothing but charred rags hanging off his skeletal frame. His face, usually a mask of cold, wooden arrogance, was twisted into a hideous grimace. In his blood-red eyes, there was terror, but more than that, there was the hysterical madness of a perfectionist whose masterpiece had been shattered by a "lowly" tool.
He stared at the youth approaching him. Gu Hanzhou moved with a steady, predatory rhythm, carrying the unconscious body of Gu Qingshan on his back. In his hand, the dark-gold blade of [Black Order] etched a line of sparks into the steel floor.
"Royal Blood... cough... truly the most unstable variable in this wretched world," Mordent spat out a glob of grey, necrotic phlegm. He struggled to prop himself up, his eyes darting toward the pulverized experimental equipment and the piles of ash that used to be his Flesh Golems. "But it doesn't matter anymore. If I cannot have the perfect vessel, then the secret sleeping beneath this city for a hundred years... no one will take it alive."
Gu Hanzhou didn't slow down. The tip of [Black Order] left a trail of smoldering red in its wake. His voice was a shard of ice from the deepest abyss:
"You have no more moves left, you old beast."
"Is that so?"
A cruel, maniacal grin spread across Mordent's face. His withered right hand suddenly slammed into a black metallic pillar nearby. This wasn't a structural support; it was the master control hub of the Inverted Tower, the physical key that maintained the balance of the Great Subterranean Rift.
"In the name of Order—I revoke the existence of this sinful place!"
Mordent's voice was high-pitched, filled with the ritualistic fervor of a zealot. His palm erupted with the last of his necrotic energy, violently short-circuiting the failsafes of the controller.
Beep.
A tiny, electronic chirp sounded in the sudden silence of the tower's base. It was a small sound, but it made Gu Hanzhou's heart stop.
Then, the world began to scream. The Inverted Tower didn't just shake; it groaned as if a sleeping titan was waking up beneath it.
[WARNING: SELF-DESTRUCT PROTOCOL ACTIVATED.] [ENERGY HUB OVERLOAD COUNTDOWN: 180 SECONDS.] [CORE PRESSURE STABILIZERS: DEACTIVATED.] [ALL EXITS: PERMANENTLY SEALED.]
Piercing red emergency lights flared from every crack in the floor. Sirens wailed throughout the subterranean vault. Suspended pipes burst, spraying pale-green nutrient fluid onto the scorching floor, where it instantly hissed into a thick, blinding white fog.
"You're insane," Gu Hanzhou's pupils shrank. Mordent wasn't just blowing up the tower; he was triggering a chain reaction in the subterranean Order-residue that had built up for a century. Once it blew, it wouldn't just be the Black Prison that vanished. The entire Mid-Sector—perhaps the city itself—would collapse into the sea of magma below.
"Insane? No, this is the perfect judgment!"
Mordent began to laugh, blood leaking from the corners of his eyes. "If I, Mordent Draco, cannot ascend—if this 'Great Royal Blood' refuses to submit—then you and your father will become my funeral offerings! Along with this rotting city! Here, I am the only judge!"
"You aren't even worthy of being his shadow."
Gu Hanzhou's speed exploded. If death was coming in three minutes, his only obsession in those 180 seconds was to make sure Mordent arrived in hell first.
[Black Order · Ultimate Intent: Soul-Crush]!
Gu Hanzhou channeled every ounce of his Peak Blood-Ignition cultivation into a single, vertical strike. The dark-gold blade-light tore through the space between them, carrying ten years of suppressed vengeance and his father's three years of silent agony.
Mordent, having spent his last dregs of energy on the self-destruct, could no longer defend. He didn't even try to dodge. He simply opened his arms, a hideous, triumphant smile on his face as the light reached him.
SHLICK!
The dark-gold blade carved through Mordent from his left shoulder down to his waist, cleaving the Vice-Adjudicator in two.
There was no spray of blood. Mordent's body had long ago been hollowed out by necrotic energy; from the wound, only grey dust and twisted fragments of a corrupted soul billowed out.
"Kill me... Gu Hanzhou... hahah... I will wait for you... at the gate of hell... cough... Two minutes left... you can't escape..."
Mordent's severed head fell to the ground, still cackling until Gu Hanzhou raised his boot and crushed it into the steel floor without a word.
"Han... Zhou..."
On his back, Gu Qingshan let out a weak groan. The former God of War of the Night-War Legion was finally regaining consciousness as his blood resonated with his son's. He looked at the collapsing lab and the blinding red lights, understanding the situation instantly.
"Take... take the girl... and go..." Gu Qingshan's voice was a dry rasp. He could feel the weakness in his son's body from overdrawing his power to kill Mordent. "Go to the bottom... Air Well No. 3... there is an Old-World... emergency pod..."
"Shut up, old man."
Gu Hanzhou gritted his teeth, hoisting his father higher. His eyes searched through the thick white fog until he spotted a splash of violet—Su Qingyue, knocked unconscious by the earlier energy shockwave.
He blurred across the room, scooping Su Qingyue up under one arm while his father remained strapped to his back. His load was at the limit, and the ambient temperature had already climbed to a staggering 60°C (140°F).
Above them, the steel girders began to melt. Red-hot magma was already oozing through the cracks in the tower's walls.
[COUNTDOWN: 90 SECONDS.]
"Su Qingyue, wake up!" Gu Hanzhou roared into the earpiece.
The girl's eyes fluttered open to a vision of the apocalypse. She didn't scream or panic; she immediately bit her thumb, using the pain to sharpen her focus.
"I'll... guide the path," she whispered, leaning weakly against his shoulder as her fingers traced patterns in the air. "The energy in the core is rampaging. Follow my Primal Blood resonance... left-front... three o'clock... the space-barrier there is thinnest!"
Gu Hanzhou didn't hesitate. He took a deep breath, the muscles in his legs screaming under the impossible weight.
[SPIRAL · MAXIMUM OUTPUT]!
The dark-gold vortex in his heart spun to its physical limit, causing his very skin to glow with a radiant, golden light. He became a meteor streaking through the falling debris and bursting pipes.
K-BOOM!
A massive alloy beam crashed down just inches behind him, the heat singeing his hair, but he didn't look back. In his eyes, there was only the path of purple light Su Qingyue had marked for them.
[COUNTDOWN: 30 SECONDS.]
They reached Air Well No. 3—an ancient, reinforced hatch buried behind a shock-resistant bulkhead. The Old Court markings on the door were faded, but in this moment, it was their only Noah's Ark.
Gu Hanzhou kicked the rusted door open and threw Gu Qingshan and Su Qingyue inside.
"Get in!"
"What about you?!" Su Qingyue screamed.
Gu Hanzhou didn't answer. He looked up at the crumbling ceiling and the rising tide of molten red fire that threatened to consume the world. The manual launch lever was outside the hatch.
[COUNTDOWN: 10 SECONDS.]
Gu Hanzhou stood at the threshold of the pod. He took one final look at the dark, filthy dungeon that had imprisoned him for ten years. The killing intent in his eyes faded, replaced by a cold, sharp resolve—the awakening of a true King.
"The night in this city has lasted far too long."
He pulled the lever.
VROOOOM—!
The Old-World thrusters roared with a sound that spanned centuries. Driven by massive pneumatic pressure, the silver pod transformed into a streak of light, shooting through the emergency escape tunnel toward the distant surface.
In the final microsecond before the hatch sealed, Gu Hanzhou used the momentum to roll inside.
[COUNTDOWN: 0.]
BOOM————————————————!!!
The Black Prison, the Inverted Tower, and everything within them vanished from the face of the earth.
A cataclysmic earthquake ripped through the Mid-Sector. Opulent buildings collapsed in a heartbeat as smoke and fire tore through the ground, dyeing the eternal night of the Iron City a horrific, visceral crimson.
Duke Mordent's "Order" was broken.
And amidst the rising pillars of fire and ash, a silver cylinder—the escape pod—soared like a rising star. It pierced the polluted clouds and streaked toward the unknown horizon: The Desolate Dead Zone.