The Thirty-Sixth Layer of the Abyss was a sulfur-scorched wasteland.
Toxic smoke drifted through the place year-round, the kind that could burn straight through a person's lungs.
The moment Dies Martin finished speaking, the Plague Sovereign and the Fear Demon God made no move to respond.
You expect us to provoke the Extreme Ice God Realm just because you said so?
The Plague Sovereign's thousands of compound eyes swept over Dies Martin, and a deep, muffled laugh rumbled from his massive mound of flesh. "Lies, did some mortal knock the sense out of you up there? That madwoman Extreme Ice moved her entire Divine Kingdom over, and now you want us to snatch food from her mouth?"
The dark shadows around the Fear Demon God twisted into ever-changing faces. His voice exploded directly inside Dies Martin's head. "Do you take us for gullible children?"
Dies Martin had never expected words alone to convince these two old foxes, who had lived for tens of thousands of years.
He pulled out the dark-purple crystal Qin Chuan had given him and crushed it in his hand.
Crack.
The crystal shattered, projecting an exceptionally clear image across the Abyss's dark-red sky.
The scene was unmistakable.
Pure-white glaciers had completely covered the vast Siberian Plain, and a towering altar churned away.
The souls of millions upon millions of mortals were forcibly extracted and poured as pillars of light into several Frost Mid-Rank Gods.
As the pillars faded, the unmistakable pressure of Upper Gods was enough to make scalps prickle even through the projection.
"Slurp—"
A sudden gulp echoed across the empty scorched earth.
No one could tell who had made the sound, but both old monsters were clearly transfixed by the image.
"What an extraordinary soul-conversion rate... That Extreme Ice woman is wasting a treasure!"