Chapter 372: An Unfathomable Entity Ethan was enjoying the little mortal life of his. His subordinates were working on his order to build a wall, while he was sitting near the camp fire, thinking something deeply. He was so absorbed in the "game" that he had briefly forgotten the "board." The board was the Primordial Beast, the god of the world where Ethan lived. To Ethan, it was merely a vessel, a silent carrier for his grand experiment. But even a god can forget that a vessel still feels pain. Beyond the dimensions Ethan had folded into being, the Primordial Beast convulsed with pain. The World of Lords,Primordia, was not a natural growth. Ethan created it himself. As his power was same as the beast, his world had similar power as the main world. And the creature couldn’t control it’s laws. It wanted to destroy this world, or threw it out from it’s body, but the space around Primordia was also under Ethan’s control. He didn’t want any interference during his game. But this this cost an opposite reaction. The creature was feeling immense pain in it’s body and couldn’t do anything about it. It started roaring. The Beast’s roar did not travel through space. It bypassed it entirely, rippling directly through the reality itself. It was a scream of agony, as if it was calling someone. In the void, a rift opened. It was not violent. It was precise, surgical, as though reality itself had been gently parted. From the opening emerged a hand, small and pale, seemingly fragile. Yet it dwarfed the world sized head of the Primordial Beast. The hand cradled the creature with a tenderness that was somehow more terrifying than cruelty, like a child holding a wounded sparrow. "What happened to you, my little birdie? Who hurt you in my garden?" The voice was sweet, almost playful, but it carried the unmistakable weight of absolute authority. The speaker stepped through the rift. She appeared to be a young girl, no older than ten. Her dress was woven from the silk of dying stars, its fabric shimmering with collapsing constellations. Her eyes turned black suddenly. She was scanning the inner world of the primordial creature. "A world out of your control? Interesting..." She tilted her head, a strand of silver hair slipping across her shoulder. "A being from your inner world has grown this much? Yay! I want to play with him." She giggled. Several nearby nebulae collapsed into newborn black holes. "Father is still busy with his work outside. I am so bored." She clasped her hands behind her back, rocking slightly on her heels. "Let’s see what this little bug has built." Without hesitation, she stepped inside the creatures inner world and started descending in Primordia. She did not interface with the layered dimensions Ethan had constructed. She ignored the folded barriers and sovereign seals entirely. She simply walked through the walls of reality as if they were soaked paper. She arrived in Primordia. Ethan felt it first as a subtle tremor pulsing through his Ring of the Sovereign’s Command. His brow furrowed. The All-Seeing Eye swept across the Wasteland of Despair. Everything appeared intact. The Calamity Knight stood vigil. His other subordinates were doing their jobs too. Yet something was wrong. "Ragnarok," Ethan murmured. The butler appeared instantly, but his complexion was pale. "My Lord," Ragnarok said quietly. "Something has entered the world. I cannot perceive its form, only its shadow. It bypassed every ward you placed." Ethan rose to his feet, his expression hardening. "Impossible. My seals are bound directly to my source. Nothing can.." He stopped mid-sentence. The sky was changing. [Warning: System Integrity Compromised.] [Warning: Administrator Authority Overridden by... ’Guest_001’.] [Status: Unknown entity has occupied the Northern Throne.] Ethan’s heart, the mortal heart he had chosen to retain, slammed violently against his ribs. "The Northern Throne," he whispered. "That seat belongs to the Demon King. The final antagonist." The realization struck him with chilling clarity. He was no longer the only Designer in the room. Deep within the Demon Continent, inside a cathedral carved from frozen screams, the Monarch of the Ancient Demons sat upon his throne. Before him stood the girl. Against his towering, four-armed frame, she looked like a grain of dust. The Demon King lifted his massive mace, hatred blazing in his eyes as his programmed instincts surged. "What are you, small thing? This is the domain of the—" She reached out and patted his knee. Her eyes turned a deep, arterial red. "You’re too loud," she said with a pout. "From now on, you are my toy. And toys don’t talk unless I tell them to." A wave of red energy exploded outward. It was thick as blood and heavy as gravity itself. It did not merely coat the Demon King. It sank into him, infiltrating his atoms, his soul, his code. It bypassed the ultimate antagonist template Ethan had written and rewrote the creature’s foundation from scratch. The Demon King screamed. His four arms cracked and expanded grotesquely. Obsidian skin transformed into living, pulsing crimson scales. His level, the absolute cap Ethan had enforced, began to spin out of control. 150... 300... 600... [ERROR: DATA OVERFLOW] Across the continent, every Ancient Demon collapsed simultaneously. They clutched their heads as memories were stripped away, replaced by a single image burned into their consciousness. A smiling little girl. "My little bug," she whispered, her voice echoing through the hive-mind she had just seized. "Please entertain me well." The demons rose again. They were no longer antagonists in a survival game. They were Apostles of the Red Queen. Their power surged to levels that could turn the World of Lords into a slaughterhouse. Suddenly the caretake appeared infront of him too. "My lord", he said in a paniced tone. "Speak," Ethan said, his gaze never leaving the horizon. Ragnarok was still standing by his side. "The backend of the System is in chaos," the Caretaker rasped. "The Ancient Demon race has undergone a Forced Evolution. Their data streams no longer synchronize with my logs. Their coordination exceeds all behavioral parameters. They are no longer waiting for the Expansion Phase." It hesitated, then whispered, "They are hunting on their own now." Ethan frowned. "Hunting? Beginner Protection remains active for seventy-two hours,right?" "It does," the Caretaker replied quickly, "but they are circling every territory. Anyone who steps even a fraction beyond the blue line is killed instantly. They are not farming resources. They are provoking the Lords. And, My Lord... the Demon King’s throne. I cannot perceive it. My administration authority is obstructed there." Ethan’s heart pulsed in a strange, uneven rhythm. For a being who had reached ninety-nine percent comprehension of the Source of Existence, who had the similar power of a primordial being,blindness within his own creation was a sensation he had not felt since his earliest ascent. "I will confirm it myself," Ethan said calmly. Ethan stepped past the shimmering blue boundary of his territory. The instant his foot touched the neutral dust of the Wasteland of Despair, the temperature did not fall. It ceased to exist. Cold vanished, replaced by an absence that stabbed at the senses like countless needles of ice. He froze. Something is looking at me. It was not the attention of a predator. Not even the gaze of a god. It felt as though it originated from inside his own thoughts, a suffocating awareness wrapped tightly around his soul. Yet when Ethan extended his divine perception, he found only empty air and jagged obsidian spires. "Who is there?" he whispered. No answer came. Only the wind, whistling low and mocking through stone. Ethan tightened his grip on the obsidian shard he wielded as a weapon. For the first time in his life, a genuine chill crept down his spine. The Source within him, usually a vast and tranquil sea, churned in silent warning. "Fine," he muttered, eyes hardening. "If you will not show yourself, I will draw you out through the blood of your puppets you just created. This is my world, no one can interfere in my game." Ethan advanced toward the Ashen Forest, a dead expanse of petrified trees separating the Wasteland from the Demon Continent. This was where the Ancient Demon scout parties had begun to gather. Behind him followed the Calamity Knight. The forest greeted them with absolute silence. The ground suddenly exploded. Three demons erupted from the ashen soil. They were nothing like the scouts Ethan had faced before. These were Apostle Vanguards. Their bodies were encased in crimson chitin, their eyes glowing with fixed, feral madness. "Die, interloper!" they screamed in perfect unison. The Calamity Knight surged forward, abyssal halberd cutting a black arc through the air. Under normal conditions, this knight would have annihilated such foes in a single blow. The demons moved anyway. One caught the halberd barehanded. Chitin met abyssal steel. The second demon blurred into red motion, reappearing behind the Knight. A bone blade drove forward, punching through abyssal armor. CRACK. The Calamity Knight shattered into motes of grey light. It had not been defeated. It had been erased. [Warning: Subordinate ’Calamity Knight’ permanently destroyed.] Ethan’s eyes widened. "Permanently? In a Level 1 Zone?"