But Byron’s surroundings did not become silent like normal deep sea, but instead grew increasingly lively, even somewhat noisy.

Although it seemed empty, strange sounds constantly came from afar—wailing, teeth grinding, whistling, sirens, bizarre laughter...

The water currents were also slowly stirred, as if some colossal entity was peering from the darkness, ready to suddenly emerge and devour him in an instant.

If someone with deep-sea phobia came here, they might not last long before dying of fright.

Byron didn’t feel fear; on the contrary, he deduced from these details that he had most likely fallen into the unexplored... Sea of Origin Matter!

"Judging by the constellation above and the perspective of [Myriad Wings Angel], this should be the reflection of the [Pantheon] in the Sea of Origin Matter.

The real Pantheon houses the divinities of the gods continuously split off by the creator, whereas this reflection in the Sea of Origin Matter would likely be..."

Pop!

Just as he thought of this, with the soft sound of a bubble popping at his ear, Byron suddenly broke through a membrane layer, arriving in another realm.

His nose was instantly filled with a stench so foul it made tears stream down, and he saw another "Pantheon" deep underwater.

This place was entirely different from the true Pantheon.

The massive pillars soaked in seawater were covered with the marks left by time—moss, algae, and even a multitude of ugly barnacles parasitizing them.

Especially the originally bright and splendid starry sky, where each star housed an angel, had been replaced with a filthy expanse of heaven.

This filthiness wasn’t the hazy mist of a rainy day, nor the air pollution of the steam industrial revolution era.

It was as if a colorful dye was spilled on a black canvas and mixed into a black nebula of myriad colors, forming a repulsively thick filth.

The same looming silhouette existed within those dim stars, flickering like the bloodshot eyes of some colossal beast, ceaselessly blinking.

Instead of starlight, what it emitted was repulsive fungal threads, either black-and-yellow, gray, or ghastly green, perpetually exuding a smell of decay.

At this moment, Byron appeared on one of the dim stars where the mold was not yet rampant.

Unlike those Old Gods, whose true forms lay deceased on the deep sea floor with real power, it was merely a projection capable of recording.

Then, discovering two indescribable figures lurking at the center of this underwater temple, his pupils involuntarily contracted:

"Hiss! Aside from the Mother of Monsters, have other Old Gods regained their sanity?"

He hurriedly closed his mouth, fearing any sound would alert them.

Just like when Byron first entered the Pantheon, the first thing was to ensure whether other "angels" had been accepted by their master, achieving revival.

Old Gods are now insane, not stupid; their subconscious reactions are likely similar.

Byron couldn’t determine his current state, and if he was killed, he worried it might affect his actual form.

Should they discover an imposter among them, he couldn’t imagine what might occur.

Fortunately, it seemed their conversation was already concluding, with no intention of checking a second time.

The frenzied murmurs were even more chaotic than the Mother of Monsters, but mixed with decay, they echoed throughout the temple.

"Hiss hiss hiss... Today’s assault on the Silver Continent, they’re all unevolved fools... Fools...

Even mortals know... one must sharpen the blade before chopping wood... Hiss hiss hiss... Must sharpen the blade... They foolishly try to swallow an elephant in one go, greedier than us serpents...

Especially my ambitious mother, who also wishes to become the ’Harmonizer of All Things’... Hiss hiss hiss..."

The serpent-like hissing reverberated constantly in Byron’s skull.

If it weren’t for the protection of [Myriad Wings Angel] and his life essence being at Fifth Order, perhaps small snakes would have crawled out of his ears, nostrils, and mouth.

He dared not face them directly, only glancing with the corner of his eye.

Throughout his visual field on one side of the temple, there were snakes everywhere.

Slimy, writhing, mosaics of colorful scales, it was actually a massive ball made up of thousands of venomous snakes.

Yet these venomous snakes sported not snake heads on their necks, but triangular, wedge-shaped rotten human heads.

They seemed to be in eternal hibernation, with almost all snake eyes half-open, occasionally spitting out forked tongues, either pitch-black or gray-white.

As soon as the horrible stench invaded Byron’s senses through sight, infiltrating smell, hearing, taste... even the clothes touching his skin seemed transformed into slick snake skin.

Suddenly feeling itchy all over his scalp and skin, he yearned to peel them off to attain rebirth.

This was an Old God he recognized.

It was one of the many monstrous offspring of the [Mother of Monsters], and the primary research subject of the Black Wizard Syndicate’s Skinning Cult under Byron [Thousand-Faced Serpent·Hydra]!

Evidently, the first to return to the Material World might be the oldest and strongest [Mother of Monsters], but the Old God who first regained a portion of sanity was not necessarily her.

For the Old Gods, death is not the end; after being drowned by the Great Flood, they are trapped between "death" and "eternal sleep".