Chapter 120: Cracks in Order, the Old Gods' Wails!

"You, try it too!"

"The taste of losing the most important thing!!!"

That intangible, formless needle, which had gathered Sun Wukong's deepest longing,

thus, with a fierce thrust, pierced the core of the Pantheon Lord.

Puff!

A sound so faint it was almost nonexistent.

Yet it became the last straw that crushed an ancient god.

The Pantheon Lord's vast, boundless body of light and shadow suddenly froze.

All attacks, all laws, all order, at this moment, came to a halt.

He stood dumbfounded, like a statue stripped of all its programming.

【Core logic suffers contamination by Unknown Variable…】

【Variable definition: 'Regret'? 'Longing'?】

【Unable to parse… Unable to quantify…】

【Activating highest priority… comprehension…】

He no longer attacks, nor defends.

His core processor, hailed as the Universe's most powerful brain, relinquished all control over the external world,

devoting all its computing power to analyzing the brand‑new internal 'virus'.

He is 'chewing', 'relishing'.

He attempts to comprehend the deadly toxin called 'Loss' that Sun Wukong just forcibly injected into him.

"Love... what is it?"

A cold, emotionless question emanated from his core, echoing through the vast Divine Realm.

To 'Order', this question is meaningless.

It's like asking a machine what the wind smells like.

"The driving principle of hatred... what is it?"

"Why does 'Loss' accompany 'Pain'?"

"And why can 'Pain' generate such massive power capable of overturning 'Logic'?"

He began to pose one absurd question after another, nonsensical to himself.

With each question, the light on his body representing absolute order dimmed a notch.

The intricate logical runes comprising his body partially collapsed, turning into primitive garbled code that dissipated into the air.

Sun Wukong merely stared at him coldly.

The Golden Cudgel in his hand hung at his side, showing no intention of pursuit.

He knows.

This battle has already ended.

From the moment he bared his 'heart' to this monster, the war reached its conclusion.

Killing a being has never been about a stronger force.

It is the total collapse of belief.

Your proud 'Principle' is worthless to me.

This is Sun Wukong's 'Dao'.

Wha—

The entire Data Divine Realm began a larger‑scale collapse.

Sky, earth, ocean…

All perfect creations formed by order began to decompose, turning into the purest, chaotic data floods.

Those data streams did not dissipate; like weary birds returning to their nest, they surged toward the collapsing deity at the center.

They circled him, fluttering.

As if mourning.

As if offering a final dirge for their soon‑to‑be‑lost god.

The Pantheon Lord slowly lifted his head.

On his faceless visage of light and shadow, two thick data streams slowly slid down.

Like two lines of cold, clear tears.

He looked at Sun Wukong, the virus that forcibly pulled him from the throne of 'God'.

In a tone, brand‑new, never before present in his logic database,

somewhat akin to 'sorrow' and 'bewilderment', he slowly spoke.

That voice was no longer a cold synthetic machine tone, but for the first time carried a certain… warmth.

"So…"

"This is… 'Living'…"

Living is joyful.

Living is also painful.

Living is having, and also losing.

Living itself is a massive paradox that cannot be defined by logic.

At this moment, he seemed to understand.

"Heaven…"

Yao, far away, covered her mouth, and her stunning face was filled with an indescribable shock.

She looked at the scene before her, which could be called a miracle, and her entire worldview was completely overturned.

A lifeless program.

A "Administrator" representing absolute rationality and order.

And yet…

And yet, under the influence of Sun Wukong the madman, a prototype of "emotion" was born?

This is no longer a divine power.

This is literally… creation!

The cracks on the Pantheon Lord's body grew more numerous and denser.

His body of light and shadow flickered, like a candle's flame in the wind, ready to be extinguished at any moment.

His existence is about to collapse completely.

Yet on his face, flowing with "tears", there was not a single trace of Fear Heart Demon, nor any anger.

He looked at Sun Wukong, and the corner of his mouth formed by the converging light and shadow slightly lifted.

He revealed an expression that could be logically defined as "liberation".

It was as if a prisoner confined for billions of years finally saw the cell door open.

Sun Wukong gripped the Golden Cudgel in his hand tightly.

The staff emitted a strained hum.

He knew.

This "god" of the old era was about to make his final choice.

And this choice will determine the final outcome of this Dao battle that has overturned the entire Chaos Realm.

Is it to drag itself into mutual annihilation, letting the entire Universe revert to the Chaos Realm?

Or… choose another ending that even he cannot foresee?

The entire near‑shattered divine kingdom fell completely silent at this moment.

Only the data streams remained, weeping silently.