On the altar flooded with black mist, agonized howls never ceased, as though someone were enduring pain that pierced deep into the soul.
A gleeful, malicious smile appeared on the male Black Robed Figure's face.
The female Black Robed Figure dismissed it with disdain.
Finally, several minutes later, the divine phantom that shrouded the entire world gradually dimmed. It was still slumbering; what it had done was merely instinctive.
It sensed that one of its branches of power was about to dissipate.
So, instinctively, it replenished it with a little energy.
Much like charging a battery.
As the tentacles vanished from atop the altar, the black mist enveloping the entire altar began to disperse as well. The howls had already completely ceased.
When the black mist fully faded, Black Scale's figure appeared there.
He knelt and bowed toward the Lord of the End, whose phantom alone remained in the heavens, like the most devout of believers.
"Heh heh heh, you didn't die. What a pity." The male Black Robed Figure mocked him as usual.
A trace of confusion surfaced in Black Scale's scarlet eyes.
He looked around. "Where is Soul Lock?"
"Dead." The female Black Robed Figure answered coldly.
"How is that possible?!" Black Scale's eyes immediately widened.
For high-ranking members of the Endless Divine Court like them, no matter how miserably they were beaten, so long as even a thread of their origin remained, they could recover fully with the help of the god's power.
Of course, they would have to pay the corresponding price.
How could mortals accept a god's power without being affected?
Not to mention the Lord of the End's nature.
It was no exaggeration to say that each time they accepted the Lord of the End's power, they drew one step closer to It, until