Antarctica lay withered and shattered; Lurian was dead.
"We won."
Andrew Han stood beneath the azure sky, gazing up at the vast starry expanse.
From the depths of the cosmos, claiming to have traversed hundreds of planetary systems and lived for tens of millions of years, the Starlight-tier Nether Clan overlord Lurian—sealed beneath Antarctica by the ice-based regenerative energy system since the Pangu-Nüwa Era for fifty thousand years—was now dead.
Tracing back to distant eras, it descended from the stars, bringing catastrophe.
After being sealed in Antarctica, it remotely spawned Specters, spreading across the world, wreaking havoc on this land, and causing endless human tragedies—disasters so numerous they defy description.
But now, it was dead.
No matter how glorious its past, no matter what it had experienced, Lurian was ultimately dead.
And Lurian’s death was unusually complete.
Not only was its body utterly destroyed, but its remains were scattered across the cosmos, leaving no trace behind.
Only at this moment, after withdrawing from his Berserker State, did Andrew Han finally answer Lurian’s question—though Lurian had already vanished into the stars and could never hear it.
"You asked me why."
"Now I can tell you... because I was born human."
Anything that tries to seize Earth as a home—regardless of good or evil, black or white, right or wrong—cannot be forgiven, not even in death.
To sympathize with Lurian would be cruelty toward my fellow humans!
Moreover, Lurian’s existence posed a grave threat to everything Andrew Han has always cherished.
So from the moment he returned, seated atop his Starlight Throne, until now, his heart held only one thought—kill!
Clouds drifted, time flew; all the disasters and calamities had become the past. The heroic sacrifices and battles without retreat had not been in vain—the world was now clear and bright.
Perfect, whole—the billions of mountains and rivers still remain today.
It was as if even a single breath of air carried a hint of mint.
"But the impact is simply too enormous." Andrew Han couldn't help but frown as he looked around.
Their fierce battle had raged from the center of Antarctica all the way to its edge... The most striking sight was the colossal rift below.
It began at the heart of Antarctica!
And ended at the continent’s outer edge!
Across the endless ice of Antarctica, it looked as if the continent had been split in two—the rift was generally between thirty and eighty meters wide, winding and twisting rather than running straight.
He gazed at it, focusing his eyesight for a moment.
After estimating for a while, Andrew Han muttered, "It must be at least a thousand kilometers long."
He considered this a grave blow to Earth's ecology—he felt little pride, even though creating such a vast chasm was undeniably spectacular and awe-inspiring, filling him with a sense of accomplishment.
To damage even a little is a sin.
But damage on this scale could be called an achievement worthy of the ages!
To split Antarctica with Ten-Thousand Swords—just imagining it sent his heart surging, as if he could reach for the moon in the highest heavens.
Just then—
A crisp, precise little voice sounded: "Not just a thousand kilometers—the exact measurement is three thousand sixty-nine kilometers... plus ninety-four meters."
Upon hearing Bailey’s voice, Andrew Han’s expression froze.
Was his own estimate off by that much?
He had always upheld the Green Mountain Sect’s virtues, earning deep respect and rarely facing criticism—no one had ever mocked his math skills to his face before.
Sarcasm!
It was downright sarcastic!
He was, after all, a bona fide Starlight-tier!
"Bailey, get out here." Andrew Han’s face was expressionless as he waved his hand, summoning Bailey.