Chapter 63: Abyssal Will and Malevolence

The power of Wang Yu’s ripples, amplified by the void, spread outward. Due to the unique properties of this subterranean space, the ripples became visible and oscillated faintly as they swept down the infinite darkness of the abyss before him.

Wang Yu extended his senses, embedding them within the ripples as they were transmitted to the depths of the abyss.

Initially, there was nothing unusual—only darkness, emptiness, and silence. Beyond that, there was nothing at all.

Gradually, however, Wang Yu began to feel resistance. It was like diving into water. There was some sort of resistance blocking the ripples he sent out, fragmenting and distorting them.

Yet it was clear that this was no physical obstruction. The source of this resistance could only be the massive sea of mental energy that Sieg had described, along with the hidden presence within it—what Sieg referred to as the “Corpse of the End.”

Wang Yu’s ripples had only ever been blocked by living beings. Inside his body, the ripples could flow freely, but they could not pass unimpeded through the consciousness of others.

Although void-enhanced ripples were more prone to disruption, his default unenhanced ripples would only be blocked by entities with conscious thought.

Thus, the resistance Wang Yu was feeling now had to be that vast aggregation of mental energy trapped within the abyss—or the emanations it was giving off.

But this wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. Even though his void-enhanced ripples had a limited range—only about a 15-meter radius—the peculiar nature of this place allowed his range to far exceed that limit.

As far as he could tell, the abyss below was staggeringly deep. Hundreds of meters? No, it was far more than that. At least several thousand meters—possibly tens of thousands.

Wang Yu’s ripples continued to pulse outward. A hundred meters, a thousand meters—advancing steadily despite the resistance.

The diffuse mental energy that filled this space was both hindrance and help. Though it resisted Wang Yu’s ripples, it also provided leverage, allowing him to use the resistance as a foothold to push further into the abyss.

The resistance grew steadily stronger as Wang Yu delved deeper, but so too did his leverage.

It was a curious phenomenon: the mental energy didn’t exhibit the sharp, directed hostility of a conscious mind.

Instead, it was chaotic and unfocused—a massive, disorganized sea of psychic energy.

It was as though he were navigating a dense crowd. The press of bodies created obstacles and constraints, but these same bodies could be used to help him push forward.

The crowd might shove him out, but it wouldn’t act in concert to expel him. The diffuse nature of this energy meant that, even as its density increased, Wang Yu’s progress was only marginally hindered until he hit some sort of critical threshold. Until then, forward movement wasn’t impossible.

Wang Yu soon ventured over 2,000 meters into the abyss. The surrounding darkness and void hadn’t changed in appearance, but the density of the mental energy had grown significantly.

“Hmm?” A flicker of doubt crossed Wang Yu’s mind. His ripples had encountered a new form of resistance—a tangible barrier, different from the earlier diffuse obstruction. It was as though they had struck a wall.

Then, in the next instant, the “wall” ceased to be inert. The moment his ripples touched it, the mental energy twisted and surged, writhing like a living thing, coiling and lashing toward the ripples.

“As I suspected. My ripples, at least the void-enhanced ones, are detectable by entities with sufficiently advanced perception,” Wang Yu mused to himself.

He tried to maneuver his ripples to evade the attack, but it was futile. The surrounding mental energy was no longer diffuse; it was now unified under the direction of some consciousness. The chaotic psychic sea was consolidating, forming coherent intent.

In an instant, everything in his immediate vicinity turned against him. The once chaotic and aimless mental energy became a coordinated assault, pressing in from all sides, enveloping and immobilizing Wang Yu’s ripples.

Some presence had clearly become aware of him. Now, that presence was exerting its control over this vast psychic ocean to suppress and crush him.

The intensity of the mental energy around him was spiking. To Wang Yu’s perception, the psychic energy was beginning to take on tangible form. Where his ripples had previously flowed freely, they now collided with solid walls.

If the diffuse outer edges of this psychic sea represented its perimeter, then the rising strength of the mental energy here signaled that he was approaching its core.

The core of this psychic ocean? What could that be? The “Corpse of the End”? It was unlikely. Something so important wouldn’t be carelessly left in a place like this. This weapon, said to be the ultimate power of the capital, couldn’t possibly be so accessible.

In that case, what was it? Could it be an emergent consciousness born from this sea of mental energy? That wasn’t as far-fetched as it seemed. Some form of will was required to block his ripples.

“Very well,” Wang Yu thought. “I’ll challenge this will myself. Sieg described it as a force capable of driving most people mad, so I should verify it for myself.”

He wasn’t afraid. First, he had absolute confidence in his own mental resilience. Second, his ripples weren’t linked directly to his mind, but merely an extension of his perception. Even if this psychic sea’s core was unimaginably powerful, it couldn’t harm something that didn’t truly exist.

Soon, Wang Yu’s ripples encountered what appeared to be the core. The nature of his perception made visual descriptions inadequate, but the entity resembled a sphere formed of coiling, twisting smoke.

The immaterial mass writhed like a chaotic nebula, alternately surging and retreating. This indescribable structure pulsed and churned before Wang Yu’s ripples, radiating a strange vitality.

Fleeting emotions seemed to emanate from it Curiosity pulsed momentarily like a spark. Then came waves of anger, frenzy, unbridled bloodlust, confusion, fear, and even joy. These emotions surged intermittently, accompanied by fragments of nonsensical information transmitted through Wang Yu’s ripples.

Images followed: dark alleys soaked in blood, brutality in a dark bedroom, the agony of separation and death, the euphoria of vengeance. A deluge of emotions and memories streamed toward Wang Yu, relentless and overwhelming.

The visions grew more chaotic. Reality blurred into fantasy.

A six-headed humanoid beast; corpses stitched grotesquely together; birds with human faces cackling unnervingly; the moon, bloodshot, glaring down from a gap in a thatched roof…

The scenes became more horrifying. The ground, no longer earth but a seething mass of flesh, rotting and spreading corruption. The sky was filled with crimson eyes that opened and closed. Human limbs sprouted like grotesque trees, bearing fruits with faces frozen in eternal screams.

The kaleidoscope of horrors defied reason. Blood and chaos reigned, swallowing Wang Yu’s senses whole. Hysteria, frenzy, depression, panic—all those emotions surged unabated, unfiltered, unrestrained, drilling incessantly into Wang Yu’s mind.

The ferocious flood of information was something no ordinary person could process. It contained enough data to drive any sound mind to madness. No one could endure such an influx and remain sane. Wang Yu couldn’t make sense of it, either.

So, he stopped looking.

“No wonder this thing drives people insane. It’s revolting,” Wang Yu muttered. At first, he had paid attention, sifting through the fragments of memory and emotions that seemed to carry some informational value.

But as the visions became more distorted and the scenes turned increasingly grotesque, filled with chaotic imagery and all manner of manic emotion, Wang Yu realized it was pointless.

Thus, he opted to stop watching. Though the emotions continued to surge toward him through his perception, Wang Yu metaphorically “locked the screen” like turning off a phone while watching a movie. The images kept playing, but the contents no longer affected him.

He waited. The frenzied torrent of horrifying scenes relentlessly poured toward Wang Yu. Countless bizarre images flooded into his mindscape, only to disappear without a trace, like pebbles sinking into a lake.

These visions had no effect on Wang Yu. His only concern was whether there was a method to the madness, if this mental sea had birthed true consciousness. If this were the case, surely there would be more than mere madness…

The torrent of chaos intensified, with more and more information being transmitted along Wang Yu’s ripples. Then, at a certain point, it all stopped. It was as though the endless deluge of disorder and madness had been completely exhausted.

The frenzied, chaotic will momentarily grew calm. The indescribable aggregate in Wang Yu’s perception stopped moving and began to drift aimlessly. Its chaotic components seemed to lose their power to spread madness as they became slightly more subdued.

The insanity-inducing visions ceased their assault as well. The core of the psychic sea did appear to have developed a nascent will—one yet immature, born from this sea of mental energy.

The radiant sphere continued to project emotions outward, which Wang Yu’s ripples captured: confusion, curiosity, excitement, desire, desire, desire…

Wang Yu silently recited the newborn will’s aspirations. It was like an infant newly born into the world. After its initial frenzy faded, it began to grope at its surroundings, curious about what they held.

A desire to leave, to grow, to break its bindings, to be unbound… The thoughts of the psychic sea’s core remained disjointed and unclear as they reached Wang Yu. The newborn will had begun to yearn for freedom.

But how could a newborn will understand the difference between here and the outside world? Right—those images, those memories.

This vast repository of memories, maddening to others, might simply be ordinary information for an entity born within this sea of lunacy.

From these memories, the newborn will had likely learned about the outside world. After all, if one could reach that world, who would want to remain in an endless abyss of chaos?

Sorrow, sadness, helplessness, yearning for freedom, yearning for freedom, sorrow, sadness, sorrow, sorrow, anger, sadness, anger, malice, yearning for freedom, yearning, freedom, yearning for a vessel, escape, escape, yearning for a vessel, malice, yearning for a body, yearning for freedom… Here… is a vessel!

In an instant, the previously unconscious projections of emotion from the psychic sea shifted. The newborn will had become aware of another presence within this void: Wang Yu’s ripples and his perception.

A surge of malice arose within the nascent consciousness, boiling with newfound desire.

Amidst its fragmented and chaotic awareness, the will grasped certain knowledge about this space: curios, inescapable, partial, severable, possessable, escapable… A vessel… a foreign will… A vessel that can be claimed!

The newborn will’s thoughts churned in chaos, its malice intensifying. From the chaotic memories, it knew the curio’s suppression couldn’t be removed, but it could hurl its own will outward, seizing control of another’s body to escape.

“Human will, fragile, crush, possess! Body, freedom, escape!”

Malice festered within the newborn will as it targeted Wang Yu. In its memories, human willpower was easily shattered, frail beyond comparison. The vessel it yearned for and the freedom it craved were now within reach.

“Is this the so-called innocence of a newborn will?” Wang Yu chuckled. “People always think that infants are pure and kind, but even human babies act in self-benefit. This thing’s no different.”

Wang Yu shrugged. It all seemed natural to him. He was just curious—was he supposed to guide the nascent will on some righteous path or build a bond with it? Surely that weren’t possible…

But if it wanted to crush his will, it was welcome to try.

The abyssal will began to stir. Its mental energy twisted and condensed.

It created a core—a terrifyingly dense concentration of its existence brimming with psychic energy, unfathomable to humans.

With countless psychic tendrils, the core accelerated, propelled toward the foreign presence it had detected: Wang Yu’s ripples.

According to its memories, this foreign presence indicated a soul untethered from its body. At the far end of that presence lay the vessel it craved.

The core shot forward at a terrifying speed, leaving the psychic sea dormant in its wake.

It hurtled along the trajectories of Wang Yu’s ripples, heading directly for his body. Within it, the will brimmed with malice, joy, and excitement at the thought of imminent freedom.

It saw Wang Yu’s body—standing calmly at the top of the lighthouse, gazing into the abyss below.

The core streaked toward Wang Yu’s head, so fast that it pierced into his mindscape in an instant.

“Next step, crush the soul of this vessel…” Freed from the chaotic psychic ocean, the newborn will became remarkably lucid.

It entered Wang Yu’s mindscape and immediately identified its target—a figure standing before an endless lake. “This is it. I’ll crush it!”

The newborn will, brimming with malice, surged forward to obliterate this presence and seize his body.

“Freedom! A vessel! I’ll finally see the world outs—” But its thoughts abruptly ceased.

In that instant, as it passed through an old, creaky wooden door left ajar, its entire existence was erased.

All malice, joy, and the will itself were annihilated. The newborn will ceased to be, wiped clean the moment it crossed the threshold.

Only the condensed psychic core remained. It passed through the door and landed atop the endless lake of Wang Yu’s mindscape.

A brilliant, glass-like orb fell, sending ripples across the lake.

The figure the newborn will had targeted approached the strange object and bent down to pick it up.

“What is this…?” The Lady of the Night’s eyes sparkled with intrigue and confusion.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep