His Sword of Light Shattered His Last Self, and Otto Shattered into Fireflies and Flew Away

Otto did not answer. He simply held out his hand, gathering a golden sword of light in his palm.

"I know," he said softly. "That's why I'll win."

The sword of light slashed down. The blood-faced Otto instantly shattered into motes of light and vanished into the void.

But immediately afterward, a second, a third, a fourth-countless "Ottos" surged forward at once. Some held weapons, some fought bare-handed, some were wreathed in black mist, and some burned with flames from head to toe. Each was a part of himself he had once cast aside. Each fought with all his might, trying to drag him into the Abyss.

"This isn't a battle," Tang Wulin murmured. "It's a judgment."

"No." Tang San shook his head. "It's atonement. Every time he kills a 'self,' he's admitting: I did these things. I won't deny them. I won't run from them. I accept them, and then-I overcome them."

Within the Light Screen, Otto moved faster and faster. His sword of light traced countless paths through the void, every strike precisely shattering one of his "selves." Yet those figures seemed impossible to kill off.

"Five hundred years," A'Dai said quietly. "How many does he have to kill?"

"Until he's personally settled every sin from those five hundred years," Tian Hen said. "Those are the Imaginary Tree's rules-if you want to rewrite reality, you first have to prove you deserve that right. And whether you deserve it depends on whether you dare face every evil you've ever committed."

In the image, Otto's breathing began to quicken. His movements remained precise, but cracks had begun appearing across his body-not physical wounds, but a deeper disintegration, as though this battle were consuming his very existence.

"He can't hold out," Niu Tian said gravely.

"No." Huo Yuhao stared at the