That single command, "Soul be mine," seemed to rise from the depths of the underworld. Inside and outside Golden City, everything fell deathly silent.
Whether they were Dragon Soaring Dynasty players fighting Demons inside the city or unaffiliated players outside preparing to rush in for a share of the spoils, everyone stood frozen, unable to utter a word.
"G-Guild leader..."
Blood War Eight Wastelands's voice trembled. He stared at the hundred-meter-tall Demon God slowly forcing its way through the rift overhead and felt his soul quaking.
This was no hastily created Fake Demigod like the one before. This was the real thing—a terrifying being that had crawled out of the Abyss after enduring endless slaughter!
"Guild leader! We have the readings!" Light Snow sounded more shaken than ever. "The preliminary energy reading is over five times that of the Golden Tyrant! We can't fight it!"
Coming from the usually composed Light Snow, those three words—We can't fight—were more crushing than any scream of panic.
"Retreat! Hurry!"
"That's a fucking World BOSS! We can't take that thing on!"
"Run! If we don't, we'll be vaporized like those thousands of people!"
The players outside the city finally snapped out of their shock at that devastating attack. They forgot all about Merit Points and Divine Artifacts and scrambled away on all fours, wishing they had two more legs.
Yet Dragon Soaring World stood perfectly still.
He simply looked up at the Abyssal Warlord emerging fully from the rift. In his battle-hungry eyes was nothing but the thrill of finally meeting a worthy opponent.
"Finally, a decent one."
He muttered the words and opened the Merit Points leaderboard.
His name still held first place, with his score now past seventy thousand.
"My soul is yours?"
Dragon Soaring World suddenly grinned and raised his middle