Chapter 1703: The Abyssal Ordeal of Corpse King! (1)

Far above the Upper Ancient Battlefield, the sky of the Undead Cradle suddenly fell silent. It wasn’t the silence after an explosion, nor the calm before another clash.

It was an absolute silence, and even the endless screams of the battlefield seemed swallowed by something immeasurably greater.

’BOOOOOOOOOOOOM!’

A profound aura suddenly descended from beyond the secret realm itself, and it did not belong to any cultivator, nor any law or race. Instead, it felt as though the Abyss itself had turned its gaze toward the Undead Cradle.

The invisible pressure spread across the entire secret realm without speed or sound. It simply existed, engulfing the entire Upper Ancient Battlefield, mountains, rivers, battlefields, ruined fortresses, ancient tombs, the Lower Grave Strata, and every inch of the secret realm.

Every living being instinctively stopped breathing, and even the endless Corpse Qi and Abyssal Qi flowing throughout the battlefield became strangely sluggish, as if it too had fallen into reverence.

The first to react were not the soldiers; they were the Evernight Dukes.

The Yin Duchess abruptly raised her icy eyes toward the heavens. The Enchantress Demon Duchess’s smile vanished for the first time since the battle had begun.

Even the Corpse Duke slowly halted his slaughter of the Vice Corpse Commanders as disbelief flashed across his ancient eyes.

"What..." His voice unconsciously became hoarse, "This aura..."

Hundreds of miles away in the center of the Evernight Battlefront, the Midnight Duke, who had been commanding the Realmbreaker Conquest Ark, suddenly stood from his seat, and the black runes surrounding him instantly lost stability.

"No..." His expression changed dramatically, "It can’t be..."

---

Inside Belfast’s endless gray mist, everything came to an abrupt halt.

The Bloody Abyss Barbarian stopped raising its gigantic axe. The Twin-Devouring Nightmare’s remaining beast head froze. Even the Dread Duchess slowly lowered the obsidian bow in her hand.

No one attacked any longer or spoke as every gaze instinctively turned toward the distant sky.

The First Commander frowned deeply, "...What is happening?"

The Second Commander’s scarlet pupils contracted, "This aura. It isn’t the Dread Duchess, it isn’t Belfast, it isn’t..."

Before he finished, his undead soul suddenly trembled violently, but not from fear, but from instinct.

Belfast’s enormous Abyssal Miasma Ghost trembled as countless ghostly faces inside the gray mist simultaneously opened their mouths in silent screams. Even the mist itself became unstable.

His horrified voice echoed across every Corpse Commander’s consciousness, "Lord Governor..."

The First Commander froze, "...Governor?"

At that exact moment, a familiar voice echoed directly into every undead soul throughout the battlefield. It wasn’t loud, yet every Corpse Clan member heard it as clearly as if it had spoken beside their ear.

"My children..."

Instantly, silence spread as the voice carried no madness or rage, but only an indescribable calm.

"...I have begun!"

The First Commander’s pupils violently shrank, the Second Commander stood completely frozen, and even Belfast’s gaseous body shook uncontrollably.

"...Governor..."

"...has begun..."

"...the Abyssal King’s breakthrough..."

For several breaths, no one moved, and then, the realization exploded like a tidal wave.

"The Governor—!!"

"The Governor has stepped into the Abyssal King Realm!"

"Our Corpse King!"

"The Corpse King is finally being born!"

Ecstatic roars erupted across countless Corpse Legions; every retreating undead abruptly stopped. The despair covering the battlefield shattered instantly.

Some corpse soldiers actually knelt, others wept uncontrollably, and many beat their chests while roaring toward the sky.

"The Corpse Clan shall never perish!"

"Our King has appeared!"

"Long live the Corpse King!"

Morale that had collapsed moments earlier surged beyond anything seen since the war began.

Yet, unlike the ordinary Corpse soldiers, the expressions of the First and Second Commanders and Belfast weren’t joyous; they were stunned.

Because they knew something everyone else didn’t: neither of them had ever witnessed the birth of an Abyssal King, and the Corpse Clan had not produced one since their existence in the Undead Cradle. Everything they knew came only from ancient records.

---

The Corpse Duke’s corpse flames flickered violently. The Enchantress Demon Duchess no longer smiled. Even the eternally indifferent Yin Duchess’s icy expression cracked ever so slightly.

Only they understood exactly what this aura represented because each of them had personally witnessed the birth of an Evernight King, and precisely because they had, their expressions grew incomparably ugly.

The Corpse Duke muttered in disbelief, "It has to be that Corpse Governor! He actually succeeded!"

The Enchantress Demon Duchess softly whispered, "This is troublesome..."

The Yin Duchess slowly looked toward the distant skies, "If the Abyssal Ordeal truly descends, this battlefield will cease to exist."

---

Far away, the Dread Duchess’s devilish eyes narrowed beneath her mask, and her calm voice became unusually solemn.

"An Abyssal King’s...Abyssal Ordeal?!"

The Dread Duchess remained silent, her obsidian bow slowly lowered completely as she no longer paid attention to the Corpse Commanders, nor Belfast or the battlefield.

Instead, she quietly looked toward the horizon, and within her usually dominating eyes, a rare trace of seriousness appeared. Because unlike the others, she knew exactly how terrifying an Abyssal King’s Abyssal Ordeal truly was.

Not because of the Corpse Governor, but because an Abyssal King’s Ordeal was never meant for a single cultivator; sometimes it can be imposed upon an entire domain!

---

High above the battlefield, the black heavens began changing, but no thunder appeared, lightning flashed, or tribulation clouds gathered.

Instead, the endless darkness itself slowly began fading, but not disappearing; purifying. It was as though some invisible hand was washing the sky clean.

Every trace of corruption, every strand of Corpse Qi, and every lingering resentment quietly retreated.

The entire Undead Cradle suddenly felt too clean, silent, and sacred, and an atmosphere utterly incompatible with the Abyss itself. That contradiction was infinitely more terrifying than any heavenly thunder.

A silence so profound that even the endless war cries echoing across the Upper Ancient Battlefield gradually faded.

No one gave the order, and no one understood why, yet thousands of cultivators simultaneously raised their heads toward the black heavens.

They all felt something had awakened!