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Dark clouds gathered over the pitch-black castle. Every so often, a bolt of purple lightning descended from the heavens and struck the castle, bathing it in a layer of deep violet radiance.
The radiance was like a frozen abyss, covering every brick and stone of the castle and dyeing the already gloomy stone walls a dark purple.
The castle's spires were like black blades stabbing into the sky, standing beneath the dark clouds.
Each tower cast long, twisted shadows under the reflection of the streaks of purple lightning.
Any god who came here would feel a distinct sense of oppression.
Because this was the domain of the God of Destruction, a place where countless gods had vanished from sight—Destruction Castle.
The castle occupied a barren plain. Not a blade of grass grew on the surrounding land, and the soil was a deep black. Now and then, a few broken rocks jutted from the ground.
Even the wife of the God of Destruction, the Goddess of Life, rarely came here unless absolutely necessary.
That was because the place was filled with an immense aura of destruction, originating from the destructive thoughts of countless lifeforms in the mortal world below.
War, plague, famine, slaughter, despair, madness—the dark thoughts that surged from the depths of countless living beings all converged here.
They slowly seeped through and accumulated in every inch of the castle walls, every crack, and every pillar, churning endlessly.
Only the God of Destruction himself could absorb and transform them into his own power.
Thus, whenever he cultivated, the God of Destruction would stay here. Most of the time, however, he lived in the cottage beside the Goddess of Life's Life Forest.
In the dimly lit hall, a crimson carpet