How could one truly defeat the nearly perfect Doomsday King?
Many ancient gods had pondered that question.
During the time he had been hunted down, Holumayer had pondered it too. In the reality where he could neither win nor escape, if he failed to come up with an effective solution, annihilation would be all that awaited him.
Holumayer's eyes were bloodshot. Feeling the icy killing intent closing in from behind, he grew ever more frenzied.
You forced me to do this!!!
I already backed down. I already decided I would never oppose Cybertron again, yet you still refuse to let this go!!
I didn't want to do this. You forced me to, so don't regret it!!!
Holumayer let out a grief-stricken, furious roar and charged toward the edge of the God Realm.
A massive wall stood before him, blotting out heaven and earth and sealing everything tightly away, cutting off all possibility of communicating with the outside world.
Even from a great distance, one could clearly feel the dense deathly stillness emanating from that wall, a cruel, icy aura that shattered all hope. It was the despair left behind by countless brilliant gods who had dominated entire eras, only to be swept up without exception after challenging the Source Wall one after another over the countless years.
Once you went up on the wall, you would never come down, no matter how powerful or intelligent you were. There were no exceptions.
As Holumayer sped through space, he looked at the Origin Wall ahead, which cut off all boundless vastness, and instinctively shuddered hard.
It was a graveyard even for Almighty Gods, let alone a small fry like him.
The closer he came to the edge of the God Realm, the thinner the spacetime dimensions formed by countless overlapping time and