Reborn with Infinity Skill Points, I Enslaved All Universes

The battlefield that followed grew even more blood-soaked and savage.

Countless prisoners, and even a portion of the awakened fighters themselves, chose to employ the desperate tactic of self-detonation as a means of attack.

The spectacle was horrifying—bodies exploding into torrents of flesh and energy, detonations echoing like thunderclaps across the continent.

At the very beginning, the colossal heart that pulsed at the center of the Flesh Continent had withstood relentless assaults for a time.

Yet even such a monstrosity could not endure forever; eventually, it was torn apart and utterly destroyed.

But despite this victory, the awakened fighters did not relax in the slightest.

They all knew clearly—such gigantic hearts were not unique.

There were ten in total scattered across the continent.

What they had accomplished thus far was nothing more than the temporary annihilation of a single one.

Still, once the strategy of suicidal self-detonation had been employed, the momentum of the battle shifted once again, swinging heavily toward the side of humanity.

Before long, nine of the giant hearts had already been crushed beneath the relentless tide of human awakened forces.

Though each heart, once destroyed, retained the ability to regenerate slowly, the overall situation was decisively under human control.

And as the slaughter dragged on without pause, the regeneration speed of those monstrous hearts slowed visibly to the naked eye.

After all, though Fleshheart possessed the rank of a Fake God, its reserves of energy were not infinite.

Sustained consumption gradually pushed even this abomination into exhaustion.

The once seemingly endless tide of blood and muscle began to falter.

Originally, a destroyed giant heart could be restored in as little as thirty seconds.

But after the brutal attrition of recent battles, that recovery period had been stretched to a full ten minutes!

More than that—the number of writhing blood-flesh tendrils that sprouted across the battlefield had decreased dramatically, their once overwhelming presence thinning noticeably.

The tide had shifted.

The initiative of the battlefield now lay firmly in the hands of the humans.

Even though in the course of destroying these massive hearts, several squads of awakeners had been completely annihilated, such losses proved temporary.

After reviving at their designated resurrection points, those warriors returned without hesitation, hurling themselves back into the fray at the very first opportunity.

At this moment,

a large coalition of awakeners located the position of the final surviving heart.

This last one was also the largest of them all.

Facing it, the awakeners did not pause for even an instant. They unleashed their strongest powers immediately, with no thought of holding back.

"Let me show you the true might of our Stormborn race!"

The voice roared across the battlefield, and in the next moment a howling hurricane, laden with desert sands, descended like a living tempest.

Vast waves of grit and gravel ground against the colossal heart as if the organ were trapped within the maw of a titanic grinding mill.

Each particle stripped away thin layers of flesh, and though each loss appeared minuscule, the sheer number of particles meant devastation was inevitable.

On another front, the Thunder Prophet Clan made their move, displaying their most fearsome art.

[Thunder: Infusion]

These zealots did the unthinkable—they summoned bolts of lightning from the heavens, drawing the searing storm down upon themselves, using their very bodies as living conduits to anchor more and more elemental thunder into the world.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

In an instant, the skies above the Flesh Continent turned black, choked with roiling storm clouds.

A ceaseless cascade of lightning fell like a torrential rain, each bolt chaining into the next until the heavens themselves seemed to weave a colossal web of electric death.

That vast, blazing net wrapped itself entirely around the titanic heart.

And all of this unfathomable force had been purchased at the cost of the Thunder Prophet Clan's very lives.

"They're insane… completely insane!!"

Mejir could hardly believe what he was seeing.

He had never imagined the battle would descend into such frenzied carnage.

Even though he knew these awakeners would eventually revive, the fact remained: they had willingly surrendered their lives and endured the searing agony of death itself without hesitation.

Simultaneously, many other awakeners, bloodshot eyes blazing with murderous fervor, began to hurl forth their own most devastating abilities.

Countless elemental spells and physical strikes rained down upon the heart, hammering at it with a storm of destruction.

The blood-flesh tendrils that had once shielded it were obliterated in the blink of an eye.

And in the very next moment, the gargantuan heart itself ruptured, bursting apart into a slurry of mutilated flesh and pulped gore.

Inside the grotesque cavern where the remains oozed, the surviving awakeners allowed themselves rare expressions of relief.

"At last… the task is done."

"This time, we can finally fight side by side with His Majesty Daniel!"

From that moment, the awakened squads acted in unison, their coordination seamless. One after another, the remaining colossal hearts were obliterated in quick succession.

In less than half an hour, no fewer than seven more of those monstrosities had been reduced to ruin.

The battle for the Flesh Continent was, for the first time, firmly and decisively in human hands.

And the ripples of that shift extended to another battlefield entirely.

Fleshheart itself, robbed of its power source, began to falter.

The constant drain of energy left it weakening steadily, and for the first time the abomination found itself unable to keep pace with Daniel's relentless assault.

A mighty being of Fake God rank—reduced to being dragged down, suppressed, even overpowered by Daniel's onslaught!

Fleshheart panicked. For the first time, it truly felt the presence of death looming over it.

Even when Aurelia had descended with her devastating attacks, Fleshheart had known that it possessed hidden reserves. Those assaults might wound it gravely, but survival had never been in doubt.

But Daniel's strikes… they were different.

They carried a naked, merciless intent to kill.

Fleshheart fought on doggedly, parrying and enduring. Though it had fallen to the disadvantage, it remained vast and terrible—like a dying camel still larger than a horse. Daniel could not simply annihilate it in a single blow. To completely finish off the Heart of Flesh would still require considerable time.

And so, strangely, the battlefield entered a state of grim equilibrium.

Fleshheart, calculating furiously, refrained from reckless gambits and instead met Daniel's blows with hurried counters, conserving what little strength it could.

Daniel, too, held back from unleashing his absolute maximum power. He understood that even if he went all out, the best he could achieve would be to slowly grind his enemy to death—and the time that would require was too steep a cost. Time was a luxury he could not afford.

Thus, while maintaining the ferocity of his assault, Daniel simultaneously invoked Mental Deduction, analyzing every detail, searching desperately for a method to end the Heart of Flesh swiftly.

Meanwhile, on the broader battlefield, the awakened continued their assaults upon the remnants of the giant hearts, ensuring that none would regenerate to full strength.

Fleshheart could feel it—its essence, its strength, was bleeding away, bit by bit.

What now?

Should it continue to endure in this slow erosion? Or gamble everything on one desperate, all-or-nothing counterattack?

After a tense, frantic deliberation, Fleshheart made its choice.

"Damnable humans! I'll drag you all into death with me!"

With that thunderous bellow, the abomination abandoned all restraint. Countless blood-flesh tendrils erupted once again from every corner of the Flesh Continent, surging forth in a tidal wave of grotesque power.

But this time, the tendrils did not target the awakened squads.

Instead, they hurled themselves directly toward the Void Domain Daniel had conjured earlier!

Through the course of the battle, Fleshheart had recognized the truth: this seemingly fragile Void Orb had become the most troublesome thorn in its side. Even if it meant expending catastrophic amounts of energy, it had to shatter that domain at all costs.

Yet Daniel had foreseen this very move.

The instant the tendrils appeared, he unleashed a storm of God Rank Skills, bombarding the edges of the Void Orb.

At once, the orb stabilized even further, its swirling energies swelling into something vaster, more unshakable than before.

Daniel had already crafted his counter-strategy. Without hesitation, he threw off every remaining restraint and attacked with all his might.

Calling forth the dagger of the God of Thieves, he carved the surrounding Void Domain into sixty-four separate partitions.

And in the blink of an eye, the pressure upon Fleshheart multiplied sixty-fourfold.

No matter how it writhed, no matter how desperately it struggled, all its efforts proved utterly meaningless.

Thus the battle raged on—Fleshheart drowning in despair, Daniel unrelenting in his pursuit of final victory, and the awakened forces ensuring the abomination's power could never rise again.

The struggle had reached its climax, and the fate of the Flesh Continent now hung by a thread.