"Crush these ugly freaks!"
The Titan formed by Zambo, leading his endless zombie offspring, transformed into a gray plague and charged madly at the Great Old Ones' army.
Wherever he passed, countless monsters were devoured completely.
The level of chaos and madness was so extreme that even the opposing monsters instinctively felt a sense of "discomfort."
From the center of the storm in Jupiter's Great Red Spot, a massive amalgamation of countless eyes and writhing tentacles slowly revealed its body.
Its will crossed the void, descending directly near the bridge of the *Unyielding Truth*.
Seeing the Great Old One before him, Ian finally stood up from his throne.
He stretched his back, his bones letting out a series of crisp pops and cracks.
"Break time is over."
As soon as he spoke, his body began to change.
His flesh was replaced by basic blocks one after another, the pixelated edges clearly visible.
His height shot up to tens of thousands of feet, and within his body, it was as if stars were being born and extinguished.
Ultimately, he transformed into a towering Titan.
His face still retained Ian's appearance, but his eyes were submerged in blinding white light.
The Titan-transformed Ian swatted the Great Old One before him to death with a single slap.
Then, he ignored the cannon fodder currently being slaughtered by his army.
His gaze pierced through the overlapping layers of the battlefield, looking toward the deepest parts of the chaotic vortexes—toward those truly terrifying wills.
He slowly raised his right hand, and a longbow forged of light and cosmic laws appeared out of thin air in his grasp.
It was the Heavenfall Bow.
He held the bow in his left hand and drew the string with his right.
There was no arrow on the string, but as it was slowly drawn back, the energy of the entire universe—no, it was as if the entire universe itself—began to converge at his fingertips.
Everyone on the battlefield stopped their movements. Whether it was the human coalition or the Great Old Ones' monsters, all felt a massive threat stemming from their very existence.
It felt as though the moment that string was released, they would simply "disappear."
"This arrow is called 'Screen Clear'," Ian murmured softly.
The bowstring was released.
There was no sound, no light, and no shockwave.
However, within the solar system, over seventy percent of the chaotic vortexes, along with the endless Great Old monsters pouring out of them, abruptly and completely vanished in the exact same instant.
They were not dead, nor were they destroyed; rather, it was as if they had been "deleted."
Their existence had been erased from this timeline.
The densely packed red dots on the star map instantly cleared out in a massive swath, and the entire battlefield fell into a deathly silence.
Yet, the silence brought by Ian's "Screen Clear" arrow lasted for less than a second.
Immediately following it was a "fury" originating from beyond the universe.
The surviving chaotic vortexes no longer spewed cannon fodder; instead, they began to violently contract and collapse.
The whispers emanating from within grew even more chaotic and disorderly, yet they bizarrely merged into a clear, cold, and malicious syllable.
The voices converged, distinctly forming the name: "Nyarlathotep."
With the appearance of this name, the physical laws of the entire universe began to fall into disarray.
A distant star suddenly transformed into a giant eyeball, then howled before extinguishing.
"Finally willing to come out, huh."
Wielding dual swords—the Titan Blade and the Sword of the Cosmos—Ian showed no fear on his face; instead, he was filled with anticipation.
The Emperor's Golden Throne erupted with unprecedented light, his majestic voice echoing across the fleet: "All legions, fall back! This is not a war you can participate in!"
Although the human coalition was reluctant, facing a pressure that froze their souls just from a name, they understood this was both an order and a protection.
The battlefield was cleared, and the fleet began an orderly retreat, forming the most solid defensive line on the outskirts of the Milky Way.
The solar system, along with several surrounding sectors, began to "peel away" from the real universe under the descending wills of several Outer Gods, transforming into an independent "Divine Battlefield" suspended between reality and illusion.
Several distinct, yet equally unimaginably terrifying wills locked onto the strongest entities on the battlefield.
The Infinity Titan stepped forward to confront Nyarlathotep.
In the next instant, an extremely pure, blind, and disorderly ultimate chaos descended—one that could not even perceive its own existence.
It had no form and no thought; it was the "endpoint" of all things collapsing. Its target was Ian.
Another will felt like knowledge, time, and space itself. It was both the key and the gate. It was everywhere, yet nowhere. It clashed with the Titan Zambo.
The final will was filled with a blasphemous, twisted sense of "life" and "abundance." Wherever it passed, all things grew wildly, transforming into its abominable offspring. Its opponent was The Emperor, the embodiment of human order and collective will.
The standoff was set.
Ian faced the Blind Idiot God, Azathoth.
Zambo faced the All-in-One, Yog-Sothoth.
The Infinity Titan faced the God of a Thousand Faces, Nyarlathotep.
And The Emperor stood directly against the Black Goat of the Woods with a Thousand Young, Shub-Niggurath.
"Interesting," Ian remarked, weighing the dual swords in his hands.
In the next second, the battling "gods" simultaneously vanished from their spots.
Their battle instantly leaped into the gaps between countless universes, into that ultimate void where even time and space held no meaning.
Ian found himself in a realm of "nothingness."
There was no matter, no energy, not even "concepts" here.
This was the core of Azathoth's "dream," the "nothingness" before the birth of the universe.
Azathoth's method of attack was simple and brutal—"dreaming that you do not exist."
An irresistible "setting" began to act upon Ian's Titan body, attempting to erase him from the very attribute of "existence."
However, Ian's body was composed of the most foundational rules of *Minecraft*.
His existence had long been anchored by MC.
That erasing power washed over his Titan body, but like water flowing over a stubborn rock, it could not shake him in the slightest.
He quickly adapted to this erasing power, and the two universal-level "settings" began to clash.
Around them, countless universes were born and destroyed due to this conflict.
A universe would just be born in Azathoth's chaotic dream, only to be infected into a blocky world by Ian the next second, and then collapse in yet another dream immediately after.
Ian swung the Titan Blade; the edge of the sword slashed through, directly annihilating one of Azathoth's dreams.
But he quickly realized that this kind of attack was merely a temporary fix, not a permanent solution.
Azathoth's dreams were "infinite." Even if he could shatter a hundred universes, a thousand new ones would be born in the dream the very next second.
Ian's interest was piqued; it seemed things were getting interesting.