Kryptonians: Man of Steel

Chapter 1623 Return to the Plot
The dazzling golden light emanating from the divine dragon seemed somewhat dimmed under the backdrop of the towering pillar of light piercing the heavens and the earth, like a candle flame compared to the blazing sun. The energy of the entire world seemed to be seized and devoured by that pillar of light piercing the sky, becoming a footnote to something far grander and more terrifying.

This breathtaking transformation process was so distorted by the violent energy that the sense of time was completely warped. It seemed to last for centuries, with every second filled with endless pain of flesh being torn apart, bones being reshaped, and the soul being crushed and reassembled; yet it also seemed to happen in the blink of an eye, when the laws of the universe's birth and death were compressed and condensed, and brutally injected into a dying body.

Finally, the towering pillar of light, seemingly destined to last forever, began to change. It no longer spewed forth boundless power, but instead, as if imbued with life and will, rapidly contracted inward. Like a receding tide, the once-raging torrent of energy, which had swept away and destroyed everything, now became as docile as a lamb, calming and receding at an incredible speed, completely absorbed by the greedy black hole-like entity at its center. The last wisp of drifting golden light was also extinguished as if by an invisible hand, vanishing without a trace.

In an instant, all was silent. A vacuum-like stillness enveloped the mountaintop.

call--

But this deathly silence lasted less than the time it takes for a heartbeat to strike. A terrifying aura, icy cold, incomparably powerful, and carrying an absolute will that looked down upon the world, erupted without warning, like an invisible storm that had been building up for millennia, instantly sweeping across the entire mountain range and beyond! The air seemed to freeze into hard glass, so heavy that it was impossible to breathe. The mountain winds that had been howling and swirling just moments before ceased abruptly, as if choked, coming to a complete standstill. Every pebble, every grain of dust, trembled under this absolute pressure, not daring to move an inch.

A brand new figure, exuding a primal, savage, and ultimate power, has taken the place where Piccolo Daimaō fell, standing tall in the center of the desolate ruins.

There was no trace left of the withered, decaying, and dying old demon king. Time seemed to have reversed in his life, pushing his vitality and destructive power to their peak in a cruel way that transcended the laws of nature.

Standing there was a terrifying being, well over two meters tall, with a physique so robust and perfect it resembled a sculpture of a god or demon! His body seemed to be sculpted from the hardest and deepest jade in the universe, painstakingly crafted by a divine artisan; every inch of his flesh exuded a destructive beauty. Beneath his deep green skin were muscle lines as taut as steel cables and as dormant as volcanoes, fluid yet brimming with explosive power, seemingly capable of shattering the earth with the slightest movement.

His face had become unusually young, yet it lacked any trace of childishness, displaying only a cold, austere beauty like a frozen river frozen for millennia. His newly opened eyes were as sharp as blades honed a million times, their pupils burning with a cold, malevolent flame; their gaze seemed capable of severing souls. A faint, almost imperceptible curve played at the corners of his lips—not a smile, but the cruel indifference of an absolute ruler towards the fate of insignificant beings, and a vast, impending desire for destruction.

Those iconic long ears had become even thicker and sharper, like the horns of a demon, with edges that even gleamed with a cold, metallic light. As they trembled slightly, they seemed to be capturing the wails of fear in the world.

Simply standing there, without making any movement, an oppressive, suffocating aura of evil, like thick ink, brutally permeated every inch of space. Light distorted around him, vision blurred around him, as if even space itself was groaning under its strain, bowing down in submission to him.

Piccolo Daimaō, at his peak—no, surpassing even his own historical peak—has returned!

He slowly, with the air of a monarch slumbering through eternity, re-examining his territory, and raised his strong, perfect arm, imbued with the power to shake the continent. He seemed to be admiring this unparalleled weapon, his five fingers slowly opening, feeling the energy flowing from his fingertips—energy powerful enough to tear through the void—before suddenly clenching it!

"Crack—Boom!" A crisp yet ear-shattering explosion rang out! The air in his palm was instantly compressed, ionized, and finally crushed by pure power, emitting a ring of subtle energy ripples that spread outwards. That most primal and pure sense of power flowed joyfully between his fingers, heralding the prelude to destruction.

"Ah……"

A very low, deep laugh, like a sigh from the bottomless abyss, welled up from the deepest part of his throat.

"Ha ha……"

The laughter gradually became clearer, a mixture of a century's worth of suppressed humiliation, hatred, anger at decay, and a thirst for power.

"Hahaha...hahahaha—!!!"

The laughter, no longer able to be suppressed, rapidly rose in pitch, finally transforming into a deafening, monstrous roar that echoed through the heavens! This laughter was no longer just sound; it had become a tangible, terrifying sonic wave, like billions of invisible hammers, madly pounding the entire world! The rocks beneath their feet trembled violently, rattling and cracking with countless fine lines. The thick clouds high above, stirred by this laughter imbued with boundless pleasure and destructive desire, churned, shattered, and dissipated like boiling water!
This laughter was the ecstatic joy of regaining supreme power, the complete venting of a century of long-suppressed humiliation, and a declaration and confidence in the impending, unquestionable, absolute destruction!

Amidst the maniacal laughter, like the roar of a demon, Danbalin and Simbal were utterly overwhelmed by the omnipresent pressure and the pure madness and evil within the laughter. Their souls trembled, their bodies uncontrollably collapsing to their knees, pressing their foreheads firmly against the cold, icy ground in the most humble and reverent posture, losing even the courage to look up. Their bodies trembled violently from extreme excitement and the primal fear that gripped their very being, like leaves falling in a cold wind.

"Welcome...Welcome, Great Demon King! You've regained your youth! Your power...unparalleled power!!!"

Danbalin's voice was distorted and torn, filled with unprecedented fervor and uncontrollable trembling, almost as if it were being squeezed out from his lungs.

Simbal, standing nearby, could only let out unintelligible whimpers that expressed utter submission and fear, as if he had returned to the primitive age of beasts.

Only the newborn, forced into labor and lying limp on the ground, managed to lift his tiny head with great difficulty amidst the overwhelming, soul-crushing laughter of his father, relying on his nascent, tenacious instincts. His clear yet bewildered eyes gazed at the green figure that seemed like an ancient demon god descending to earth.

(End of this chapter)