The Pinnacle of Decline

Five laws, plus the power of order.

Six forces struck the six corners of the formation at the same moment.

The margin of error was less than a breath.

Not within a breath, but less than one.

The six powers touched their respective targets almost simultaneously, like six fingers pressing piano keys at once.

Chu Ming's power of order pierced into the fifth corner.

On the formation's structural diagram, that corner was a dot. In reality, it was a dark-red rune embedded in the chaos.

The rune was the size of a fist, its surface covered in countless abyssal runes. Every one of them pulsed at a different frequency.

Chu Ming's power of order did not attack the rune.

He "defined" that rune as nonexistent.

Not destruction, not suppression, not expulsion.

Destruction meant it had once existed. Suppression meant it was still there. Expulsion meant it had gone elsewhere.

To define it as nonexistent meant it had never existed at all.

Gray-gold light enveloped the dark-red rune.

The abyssal runes began to blur beneath the power of order.

From clear to blurred, from blurred to transparent, from transparent to gone.

Like ink being wiped away.

The ink was still on the paper, but once soaked by water, it began to spread—from black to gray, from gray to pale gray, from pale gray to white. The dark-red rune shifted from solid to insubstantial, from insubstantial to nothing.

One point of the pentagram vanished.

The formation changed from five points to four.

Dark Nether's water flooded the first corner.

The deep-blue current was like a massive palm, completely covering the dark-red rune at that corner.

The water was not still. It spun at high speed.

It spun so fast that only a deep-blue halo could be seen.

Within the halo, the rune's