Chapter 227: The Appearance of Ancient Babylonian Mythology

Everything changed too quickly, in the blink of an eye.

As night fell, countless beings—including those of the King Realm—and the Dark Erosion beings who had just entered the passage to Higashiozu all shuddered.

It seemed as if this pitch-black, starless, eerie night truly was a dark abyss, bringing endless chilling cold—a cold that sank into the marrow and chilled the soul.

"Th-that… what is that?!"

One of the Dark Erosion beings cried out.

The other Dark Erosion beings suddenly looked up at the sky, their pupils dilating.

That was the only light in the night—the pale silver moon—no! This was not a silver moon at all!

"Eyes, eyes, eyes…" Director Takahashi's tongue stumbled, his whole body stiffened as if possessed, his teeth chattering.

What he meant to say was "eyes."

The silver moon was not a moon—it was an eye.

This scene horrified all beings; even the King Realm beings and the other Dark Erosion beings felt their skin crawl and bones chill.

Against the dark, starless night sky, a single eye opened—its pupil emitting the only light, gazing downward at the people below, as if staring from the depths of Jiuyou.

Those who gazed upon the eye felt their souls trembling to tear free from their bodies, pulled upward by the eye in the sky, soaring toward the endless dark of Huang Quan, falling into eternal darkness.

Not just Director Takahashi and his men—even the King Realm beings could not suppress their trembling hearts.

What kind of world is this?!

Looking back at the passage behind him, then up at the eye in the sky, he had the overwhelming sense that he had not entered a world, but stood before a vast horror—and now, that great horror was watching him.

"Who gave you the audacity to meddle in the Initial Realm?"

A voice boomed from all directions of heaven and earth, as if rising from the Nine Heavens and echoing from the Nine Abysses, rolling thunderously, like the wrath of the ancient Lei Shen—deafening.

The Dark Erosion beings trembled so violently they could barely breathe, their hearts nearly stopping, staring in terror at the eye in the sky.

"Tsukuyomi!"

Minister Saito froze for a moment, then turned pale—recognizing the voice of the Japanese deity Tsukuyomi.

Many others realized it too.

Yes—the eye in the night sky was Tsukuyomi's eye; legend said he was not only the Moon God but also the God of Huang Quan, co-ruling the Underworld with Izanami.

But before anyone could process this,

"Go and repent."

At that moment, the pupil of the moon-eye faintly reflected a bizarre, ruined world—filled with annihilation, mystery, darkness, and decadence—indescribable in words.

"I…"

"Oh my God!!"

"My Lord!!"

"Am I seeing things?!"

Around the world, in every nation and region, all who watched the Dark Erosion beings in Higashiozu went mad—out of their minds, unable to believe it, no—unable to even conceive of it.

In the eyes of billions, the scene within the pale, moonlike pupil became clear.

Ancient buildings lay collapsed everywhere; the earth was shattered, with gashes and fissures stretching for countless miles, wider than Bishan; the sky resembled a leaky net, riddled with holes, like a torn rag unfurled.

The ruined heavens and earth were not the focus—everyone's attention was fixed on the palace within this shattered world.

Faintly visible, the palace bore inscriptions—characters that seemed eternal, imbued with the weight of ancient epics, refined by countless ages.

"Is that Japanese?!" someone abroad asked in confusion.

Though they did not understand Japanese, they recognized the script—it was not ancient Japanese, nor Chinese; everyone knew ancient Japanese script derived from Chinese characters.

"This… this… is Ancient Babylonian script!!!!"

Professor Beishan shouted, joined by historians and theologians from every nation.

At that moment, people suddenly realized—the architectural style of the palace was not Japanese at all, but… strikingly similar to ancient Western architecture.

"That is unquestionably Ancient Babylonian script—I stake my life on it, because the palace's architecture is unmistakably Babylonian!"

An online historian typed frantically.

Confusion reigned.

What was going on?

Why would the pupil of the eye in Tokyo's sky contain a Babylonian palace? Could this be the world of Ancient Babylon before the Initial Realm's collapse…?

But why would it appear in Japan?

Could Babylonian mythology be connected to Japanese mythology?

Absolutely impossible!

Neither Japanese nor any other nation's ancient records ever mentioned any connection between Japan and Ancient Babylon—they had nothing to do with each other.

Then why was a Babylonian palace here?

"Could this be related to the fact that Babylonian mythology never returned?" someone online asked.

The gods had returned—many mythologies had their deities restored—but not all mythologies had returned; Babylonian mythology was among those that had not.

Could there be some hidden link between Japanese and Babylonian mythology? Or had something happened between them?

This was no wild speculation—people stared into the Eye-pupil world.

The carved beams and painted rafters, the layered palaces, adorned with Ancient Babylonian script and divine figures, wreathed in mist and smoke, stood like mountains of halls—grand, majestic, beyond human craftsmanship, more like the realm of gods.

But…

All were ruined, burning with flames—holy white fire and dark, sinister fire—burning these shattered halls for countless years, as if they had endured an ancient divine war.

Even the earth supporting the palace was shattered—a colossal palm print had smashed the entire sacred palace into the ground.

Forming a vast celestial pit, the ruins of the palace lay at its bottom.

"My God!!"

People turned pale in shock.

Suffocation!

Everyone felt only a crushing suffocation, every hair on their bodies standing on end.

Gazing at the ruined ancient Babylonian palace, suddenly a chorus of roars and bellowing erupted in their minds.

It felt as if a great war were unfolding—terrible, utterly savage and bloody beyond compare, its bloodshed so extreme it horrified gods and demons alike.

In a daze.

They looked at the palace and saw the sky stained with blood; one after another, magnificent divine corpses fell from beyond the heavens, smashing through the void, crashing into the world's strata, sinking into the core of the earth—yet still immortal, unyielding.

Divine blood stained the starry sky.

Blood sprinkled across the heavens, sun, moon, and stars.

A single drop of blood fell upon a great star—not merely a drop, but a Higashio Dashan weighing ten thousand jun, crushing the star until it shattered.

Then some saw it: deities from clearly different mythologies were frenziedly hunting down a group of deities unmistakably from the same mythology.

It was a war among gods!

Not a chaotic brawl.

In that war, many deities from various mythologies surrounded and slaughtered one single mythology's pantheon; its gods wept blood, divine and demonic corpses littered the land, ancient deities were slain upon the palace terraces or nailed to the high heavens, and the realms ruled by this mythology suffered mass slaughter—divine and demonic beings, glorious across ages, fell one by one.

The scene was too horrifying to watch further.

Countless people felt the same.

But these images existed only before their inner eyes—closing theirs changed nothing; all had already slipped beyond their control.

…