It is the Law of Severance. The Law of the Last Breath. This is the Scythe Law, in its full revelation. There was no burst of light. No trembling of space. And yet, everything... paused. Even the wind held its breath. Even causality stepped aside. Something had arrived. But with the quiet authority of something that could not be ignored. The comprehension had begun. The Scythe is not a weapon. It does not obliterate. It does not judge by emotion. It does not swing by desire. It knows not mercy, nor cruelty. The Scythe is not drawn when rage swells, nor when vengeance calls. It is drawn when the final note has been played. When the seed has bloomed, withered, and returned to soil. When the thread has frayed to the last fiber. It is the blade of the inevitable. It moves only when it must. And when it does, there is no resistance. For when the Scythe moves, the universe does not fight it. To comprehend this Law is to feel the deep rhythm of all things. The cycle behind the cycle. The unspoken covenant that all things which begin... must end. It is not about death. Death can be violent. But the Scythe does not swing unless the moment is right. It will never reap a life still blooming. Never sever what remains unfinished. It is bound not by power, but by timing. The wielder of this Law becomes something else. One who walks among the living not to end them, but to know when the end is already upon them. It is not about choosing who dies. It is about recognizing who can no longer remain. Even souls... tremble before it. Because the Scythe does not take. It frees that which clings. Unravels that which resists. Even attachments snap beneath its edge. It does not just cut flesh. It does not follow the Law of Death. It follows the Law of Closure. To wield it is to stand in stillness while chaos rages. To see through layers others cannot. To know when something is over—truly over— And act without hesitation. It is not the end of life. It is the end of lingering. Of echoes that should have fallen silent. Of truths that refuse to die. Of rot pretending to live. Because the Scythe waits. Never indiscriminate. Nothing returns from a Scythe’s judgment. There is no resurrection. Its edge is not made of metal. It is shaped from certainty. This... is the Scythe Law. But the final principle. The law that does not kill... But ends what is already dead. It speaks not with voice, And when it is understood... You don’t swing the Scythe. and when the moment is absolute, the Scythe swings itself. It began with stillness. But that strange pressure one feels when something vast draws breath before the world knows it. Not violent like gravity. But steady—like an ancient tide reclaiming all things that forgot where they came from. That was the first truth: Devouring does not chase. And all things—sooner or later—answer. A whisper of Originat. Nothing escapes forever. Nothing resists forever. Not when faced with the law that says: You were never separate to begin with." Devouring is not rage. It is not destruction. It doesn’t leave ashes. It doesn’t leave ruins. Because it does not erase. And once consumed—there is no distinction. This Law does not feast on weakness. It feasts on definition. Name. Form. Soul. Law. Intention. Identity— you are no longer you. You are now part of something else. Swallowed not by desire, The Devouring Law does not ask if it may. It does not wait for balance or fate. It is balance rewritten. It is fate overruled. And with each deepening breath of comprehension, the boundaries falter. The cultivator no longer sees things as fixed. Sound becomes thread. Even time begins to fray at its edges. Because the Devouring Law does not simply absorb matter— It dissolves concepts. but concepts made whole? Devouring swallows flame, and becomes fire. It devours poison, and becomes corrosion. It takes in death, and carries its chill without falling. It drinks thunder, and pulses with soundless pressure. It absorbs light, and wears its radiance like stolen breath. There is no true counter to it. What it cannot resist, it absorbs. What it cannot destroy, it wears. What it cannot understand, it dissolves into self. It is not the end of things. It is the return to origin. A singularity made of every boundary broken. The Devouring Law is not empty. So full that the self that wields it is constantly on the edge of collapse— Because to consume too much, ...is to become everything, and therefore nothing. That is why comprehension of this Law is a razor’s edge. The more you take in, the more your definition blurs. And unless your will is strong enough to contain the storm, you will be devoured by your own Devouring. only granted to those who can remain themselves while becoming a thousand others. It is a storm of inheritance. A hunger without craving. And above all, it is patient. Because the Devouring Law knows: Everything eventually breaks. Everything eventually runs. Everything eventually dies. And in that last moment, when the shield shatters and the soul trembles— The Law will speak once more. You were always mine." is the Devouring Law. But the undoing of all divisions. The folding of the cosmos back into itself. The consumption of identity, purpose, and permanence— Until all that remains... Is the one who devours all. And is devoured by nothing. A/N: Well, this had been taking my time to write it down especially the Devouring and Scythe law, with my tight schedule and arc I didn’t plan to write, it caused a few problems to publish Chapters early. But everything is okay, it wouldn’t repeat itself.