Douluo Continent: The Twin Holy Dragons of Light and Darkness, the Dragon Emperor Breaks Through the

The dark purple light at the edges became steady, and the pulses became more regular, as if they were adjusting their rhythm to adapt to the new environment.

Ling Feng sat cross-legged on the spot and noticed that the direction of the pulsation inside the crack was changing. The pulses were changing from vertical pushing to horizontal pulling, as if trying to tear the edge of the crack apart to both sides.

He began by saying, "They've changed their approach."

Gu Yuena didn't look up: "I'm trying to open the door myself."

If they could do that, they wouldn't need to rely on those naturally occurring rifts at the edge of the divine realm.

Qian Renxue said, "Then do we need to prepare in advance?"

Gu Yuena said, "Not for now."

They will need some time to complete the opening process.

We can use this time to prepare.

On the morning of the third day, a new mark appeared at the edge of the crack, not a dark purple light, but a deeper color that was close to black.

The mark was slowly coalescing on the inside of the crack, like a thin film solidifying.

Gu Yuena stopped three steps in front of the crack, her gaze fixed on the surface of the thin film: "They're ready to come over."

Ling Feng stood up, holding the Panlong Staff in his hand: "Then let them come over."

The membrane split open for the first time at noon.

Like a piece of torn cloth, a hand covered with dark purple scales emerged from the crack, its five fingers long and sharp, the tips gleaming with a dark purple light, gripping the rock at the edge of the crack.

Ling Feng did not rush to act. Standing not far in front of the crack, he could feel the hand forcefully pulling inward, as if confirming whether the crack was strong enough to support his weight.

When the second hand emerged from the crack and firmly gripped the rock, Ling Feng moved.

The dragon-shaped staff swept out horizontally, and a purple light condensed into an arc, precisely striking the connection between the palm and the edge of the crack.

The hand was severed, detached from the edge of the crack, tumbled a few times in the air, and landed on the ground, its fingertips still twitching slightly.

A low roar came from inside the crack, and then the dark purple membrane at the edge of the crack shattered completely, and a black shadow squeezed out of the crack.

It wasn't too big, about the size of a horse, but its outline was quite clear. It had long limbs, its back was covered with fine dark purple scales, and its head had no eyes, only a horizontal crack with dark purple flames slowly burning inside.

Without pausing after landing, it charged straight at Ling Feng.

Ling Feng dodged its first attack by sidestepping, and then slammed his stick into its back. The stick struck the scales with a dull thud, like hitting a rock that had been frozen for a long time.

The creature's spine wasn't broken, but its movements clearly paused for a moment, as if it were adjusting to the shock from the impact.

Gu Yuena's voice came from behind: "Its scales are thicker than they look."

Use penetrating strikes, not blunt force.

Ling Feng did not answer, but he adjusted the position of his grip on the stick.

When the creature lunged at him a second time, he didn't sidestep, but faced it head-on, aiming the tip of his dragon-coiled staff at the horizontal crack below its head, and precisely piercing into the crack.

He felt the tip of the stick pass through a soft barrier and then touch something deeper.

The creature froze abruptly, then began to slowly curl up, like a piece of wax being heated.

Its body edges began to blur, as if it were retreating from a physical form into a state between existence and disappearance.

Chapter 345 The Abyss Dimension's Reaction, Continuing to Send People

When the last wisp of dark purple flame extinguished from the crack in its head, its body completely dissipated, like ashes scattered by the wind.

Ling Feng retrieved the Panlong Staff, leaving no residue on the tip.

No new creatures were emerging from the crack, but the flames burning in the shadows had not yet been completely extinguished; they flickered slowly at the edge of the crack, as if waiting for the next signal.

Ling Feng stood before the crack, watching the flames burning in the darkness. He sensed that the flames were slowly adjusting their brightness, as if they were measuring the width and depth of the crack in their own way.

He put down the dragon-patterned staff: "This is only the first one."

There will be more.

Qian Renxue walked to his side: "When will the next batch arrive?"

Ling Feng looked at the crack that was slowly closing and then slowly opening again: "Wait until they confirm that this path is passable."

There is no sky in the Abyss Plane.

The dome of that space was a layer of dark red rock that was slowly moving, like an iron plate that had been repeatedly heated and cooled.

Every fixed period of time, a crack would appear on the surface of the rock layer, its edges gleaming with a dark purple light, like a wound that had been cut open from the outside by something.

Those cracks won't last long, but they're appearing more frequently—initially three or four a day, now it's more than a dozen.

The ground was covered with a layer of fine black gravel, which made a soft, rustling sound when stepped on, like bones being crushed.

The sand and gravel were uneven in color, some areas were darker and some were lighter, as if they had been soaked in magma at different temperatures.

The air was thick with a mixture of sulfur and metal odor, heavy and scorching.

In the distance, there were several dark red beams of light moving slowly, like candle flames flickering in the wind, or like markers searching for direction.

The headquarters of the Fourth Legion of the Abyss was located in a relatively flat area, surrounded by several pillars made of black rock, resembling some kind of outpost that had been abandoned for a long time.

The tents were constructed using a dark, heavy fabric, covered with a layer of fine runes.

The brightness of that rune was slowly diminishing, as if it were being consumed from within.

Nargas, commander of the Fourth Legion of the Abyss, sat in his tent, a map that was gradually darkening in front of him.

The markers on the map are moving slowly, as if they are being rearranged by some external force.

He didn't look up, but he asked, "How long has the communication signal for the third batch been lost?"

The adjutant standing beside him said, "Two hours."

Nargas's finger paused for a moment on the slowly darkening arc at the edge of the map: "The pathfinders sent out haven't returned either?"

The adjutant said, "No."

All signals stopped after passing through the crack.

Nargas put down the map, stood up, walked to the tent entrance, lifted the curtain, and looked down at the slowly pulsating fissure in the distance.

The dark purple light at the edge of the crack flickered, as if confirming its existence in its own way.

He could feel the crack slowly narrowing; it wasn't completely closed, but it was noticeably narrower than it had been a few days ago.

He said, "Someone is reinforcing the edge of that crack."

It didn't close naturally; someone actively narrowed its width.

The adjutant stood behind him: "The divine realm has already begun setting up defenses."

Nagarz was silent for a moment: "They know we're trying to get through."

They are blocking the route.

He turned around and walked back to the table. "Compile a list of personnel that the Fourth Army can currently mobilize."

Also, notify the Fifth Army that we need reinforcements.

When the news reached the Fifth Army Corps, its commander was polishing a short blade in his tent.

He was a much larger creature, with dark red scales edged with fine golden-brown lines, and his pupil-less eyes gleamed with a dark golden light.

After hearing the messenger's report, he put down the short blade in his hand: "They have already set up defenses over there."

The messenger said, "Yes."

The advance force of the Fourth Army has been completely annihilated.

The commander of the Fifth Army Corps was silent for a moment: "What about the rift? Is the rift still there?"

The messenger said, "They're still here."

But its width is being narrowed, as if it's being stitched together.

The commander of the Fifth Army Corps stood up. "Get ready, I'm going to the front lines myself."

As Nargas waited outside the Fourth Legion's camp for the Fifth Legion's commander, he saw the dark red pillars of light that were moving slowly in the distance growing brighter.

Those beams of light were not marks he had placed; they were becoming more active uncontrollably, as if they were being activated from within by some force.

He stood there for a while, feeling the ground beneath his feet slowly warming up, as if something deep underground was adjusting its position.

By the time the commander of the Fifth Legion arrived, the rift had narrowed somewhat.

He stood about three zhang in front of the rift, watching the edge of the rift slowly closing. He could feel the flames burning slowly inside the rift becoming quieter, as if waiting for some kind of signal.

He began by asking, "What kind of people live on the other side of the crack?"

Nargas stood beside him: "I don't know."

None of the creatures that crossed the crack returned.

The commander of the Fifth Army paused for a moment: "They killed two of my advance teams."

Nagarz said, "He killed mine too."

He turned his head to the side. "It's not because of hatred."

It's blocking the way.

The commander of the Fifth Army Corps did not respond.

He stood there for a moment, then said, "How much longer?"

"If the crack continues to shrink at its current rate, it has about ten more days," Nagarz said.

If it doesn't shrink, it might last even longer.

The commander of the Fifth Army Corps said, "Then we can't wait."

He turned and walked towards the camp. "The Fifth Legion will be ready in two days."

After the second batch of reinforcements arrived, the front-line area of ​​the Abyss Plane became even more crowded.

The number of tents has nearly doubled, and the dark red pillars of light that are slowly moving on the ground are no longer just extending along the edges, but are beginning to form new passages between the camps, as if they are rearranging the layout of the entire area.

Nargas stood at the entrance of the camp, watching the creatures carrying supplies pass by him, their backs laden with heavy ore and metal, their steps heavy yet steady.

He turned and walked toward the Fifth Army Commander's tent.