SSS-Rank Evolving Monster: From Pest to Cosmic Devourer-Chapter 112: Beyond comprehension

"What did you say?"

Robert stared at Ricky, stunned—his calm demeanor briefly cracking. For a fleeting moment, he wondered if he had misheard. But as Ricky’s aura sharpened, coiling through the air like a blade drawn in silence, he knew his ears had not betrayed him.

The pest had truly threatened him.

His gaze grew frigid, the warmth draining from his face like blood from a corpse. No one—no one—had dared to speak to him in such a manner in centuries. Even monarchs would bow their heads, and saints would show deference.

And yet, this creature...

Although a storm brewed in his heart, Robert didn’t erupt. Instead, he let out a low, subdued laugh—its tone dry and bone-deep, like the creaking of a tomb’s door.

In a measured, icy voice, he replied:

"Venom Fang Overlord, think twice before you open your mouth... or next time, you may not live long enough to regret your actions."

His words were calm—too calm. The kind of calm that came before divine retribution.

"Now, let me do what is necessary for humanity’s survival. Interfere again, and I will show you no mercy."

As the final word left his lips, Robert’s wrath did not explode. It instead dissolved—transformed—into a cold reverence. His features shifted, assuming an expression of unshakable piety.

He lowered his gaze as if in communion with something far beyond mortal reckoning.

A quiet murmur escaped him, soft but thick with power, as he began to chant.

At the same time, Felicia, who had remained silent and composed a short distance away, gently closed her eyes. Her delicate hands folded near her chest, fingers interlaced in solemn prayer. Her face, serene and resolute, reflected the same divine purpose burning within Robert.

Then—the air responded.

Ambient mana stirred violently, drawn to the gathering rite. Ancient symbols, glowing with pale gold light, flickered into existence across the barren earth. They spun and twisted above the ground like celestial runes pulled from forgotten scriptures.

Their chant echoed—calm, rhythmic, and terrible in its intent.

"O Radiant Lord of the Eternal Flame,

Bringer of Dawn, Purifier of All That Lives—

We kneel beneath your blazing gaze,

And call upon your holy fire."

The air trembled. Heat rippled across the ground. The temperature began to rise, not in degrees, but in weight—a heat born not of flame, but of divinity.

"The earth groans under the weight of the unliving.

The dead rise where they should rest,

And foul energies cling to the soil like rot."

The ground pulsed once, as though in pain. Even the undead zygote began to twitch.

"With your divine light, scour this land clean.

Burn away the shadows that defy your cycle.

Let no corpse walk, no spirit linger,

That does not heed your sacred will."

As the final words rang out, the sky above dimmed unnaturally, clouds parting as if some force beyond heaven was descending.

A storm of holy fire was gathering.

And Ricky, watching it all unfold, felt something primal stir in the depths of his being.

"Shine upon the graves with mercy,

And with fury upon the cursed.

Let your brilliance tear through the veil,

And restore the balance once more.

By your name, O Sol Invictus,

Cleanse this world of undead blight.

Let there be life. Let there be light."

As the final syllables left Robert’s lips, the world responded.

The earth shuddered beneath their feet, as though the planet itself had heard the call. The wind surged with divine rage, howling like an avenging angel summoned from the sky. Clouds above twisted and parted violently, rolling back as if yielding the heavens for a god’s arrival.

Even the Undead Princess Zygote trembled violently, its surface bubbling and pulsing like a living heart under siege. Veins of black Amma writhed across its shell, and then—a chilling scream erupted from within.

It was not a sound that belonged to anything living.

It was a banshee’s cry—agony, wrath, and madness condensed into a single note that pierced the soul.

Then—it fought back.

Black tendrils, thick and sinewy, burst from the Zygote like whips of pure malice. They writhed through the air like serpents, each moving with an independent will. All of them converged toward Robert, their target unmistakable.

But Robert—unmoved—remained in place.

He didn’t dodge. He didn’t defend. He didn’t even flinch.

He kept praying.

And in the next moment, a golden halo exploded outward from his feet, expanding like a wave of divine fire. The sacred light formed a perfect ring around him, glowing with a brilliance that repelled the darkness.

The tendrils struck the barrier—and sparked.

Each collision sent out bright flares and shrieking energy, like obsidian blades scraping against the sun itself. But Robert stood firm, his face serene, untouched by fear or doubt. His lips moved with unshakable devotion.

To him, there was no danger. There was only faith.

He had given his body to the will of Sol Invictus.

The responsibility of survival no longer rested with him.

He was a conduit.

His only task was prayer.

And then—

A deafening boom cracked through the sky like divine thunder, shaking the very heavens. The air was ripped open. Ricky’s antennae twitched violently, his instincts screaming at him to flee.

He snapped his head upward—and froze.

There, in the sky, a colossal hole had formed.

It wasn’t just a tear in the clouds—it was a wound in reality itself, a gaping passage between this world and something... higher.

A realm that should not be visible from the mortal plane.

Through it, faint beams of gold and fire leaked like blood from a broken sun.

"What... is that?" Ricky whispered, his voice dry.

One glance was enough.

A single heartbeat’s look—and his mind reeled.

He felt as though his very soul was about to rupture, as if the structure of his thoughts was fracturing beneath the weight of whatever truth lay beyond that hole.

Something was descending.

Something sacred.

Something terrible.

And it was aimed at the Zygote.

He saw an entity—an existence so vast—it shattered the limits of his comprehension.

Its form was neither divine nor demonic, but something older, more primordial. Its colossal body was stitched together with swirling galaxies, each star a heartbeat, each spiral arm flowing like a cosmic river. Thousands of black holes formed its eyes—voids so dense they seemed to pull at Ricky’s very soul.

And then—it moved. freёwebnoѵel.com

As if aware of the mortal world, the entity turned, a slow, dreadful shift—its gaze descending upon the Emerald Green Forest.

And Ricky’s mind shattered.

Blankness.

A white void swallowed all thought. The world vanished. Identity, time, purpose—gone.

He felt like a candle before a collapsing sun. Not just small, but irrelevant.

His consciousness drifted on the edge of obliteration.

And then—like a hand reaching into madness—cool, serene energy wrapped around his head, pulling him back. A gentle force—subtle but absolute—dragged his fraying mind away from the brink.

Ricky gasped.

His body trembled. Sweat poured from beneath his mandibles, running like rivulets down his carapace. His compound eyes flickered, flicking between disbelief and instinctual fear.

"What... in the hell... was that?"

His thoughts came sluggishly, like fragments rising from deep water. Never before had he felt anything like that—true horror, the kind that didn’t just threaten the body, but threatened the very concept of existence.

All of it—from the moment Robert began praying, to the moment Ricky’s mind almost melted—had happened in the blink of an eye.

And just as suddenly as it had appeared, the cosmic rift in the sky closed, sealing itself like a wound in the fabric of the world.

Still breathing hard, Ricky looked around—his gaze sharp, scanning each face nearby.

Nothing.

Everyone else was still. Calm. Reverent.

Peaceful.

As if none of them had seen it.

His eyes narrowed into thin slits, glittering with confusion and suspicion.

"Interesting," he muttered under his breath, his tone unreadable.

First Damien. Then David. And now... that.

One anomaly after another.

He didn’t know if it was coincidence or fate, but it was starting to feel like something was being drawn here, piece by piece—something beyond comprehension.

Still, he shook the thoughts aside.

"Later. Think later. Act now."

In a flash, Ricky vanished—his form blurring into darkness.

Like a phantom, he reappeared behind Robert, his presence wrapped in killing intent sharp enough to cut through steel.

Before his claws could move—

"UNCLE—WATCH OUT!"

Felicia’s voice cracked through the air like a thunderclap, her tone grave and urgent.

Felicia’s warning came—but it was already too late.

In a heartbeat, both of Ricky’s spiritual fields descended, crashing down like twin tidal waves of oppressive force. Hundreds of meters were swallowed in an instant. The very air turned viscous, as though reality itself had thickened under his command.

Everything inside froze.

Not a leaf stirred.

Not a gust dared to blow.

Even mana itself bent to Ricky’s will—suspended, unwilling to flow without his permission.

A suffocating silence blanketed the area.

Ricky had become a god within his domain.

But then—

A voice broke through. Cold. Reverent. Absolute.

"It is too late, Venom Fang Overlord."

The moment those words rang out, a horrific howl tore through the air.

The Undead Princess Zygote—as if responding to an unseen command—began to tremble violently. Its dark shell quivered, cracks forming along its surface like spiderwebs under immense pressure.

Then, it expanded.

Swelling. Pulsing. Distorting.

Like a bloated balloon on the verge of catastrophic rupture, it began to grow—pushing against the laws of matter, its core screaming with dark, corrupted mana. Waves of necrotic energy pulsed outward, warping the air and singing a start of apocalypse.

Even Ricky, standing at the heart of his own spiritual fields, felt the air twist unnaturally.

This 𝓬ontent is taken from f(r)eeweb(n)ovel.𝒄𝒐𝙢