Nether Monarch Astaroth's divine body was forcibly twisted and crushed within a higher dimension of darkness. The laws that sustained his existence groaned under the strain.
The sight froze the other two gods in their tracks.
The Plague Poison Mist that Plague Throat Father Nogros had been spewing hung awkwardly in the Void. It churned but dared not advance another inch.
Light-Devouring Maw Urganos's gaping maw also froze at its widest. The suction powerful enough to tear apart a Divine Soul stopped dead, as though an invisible hand had seized his throat.
This was bad.
Astaroth's analysis still rang in their ears: the three of them together could take down this weakened victor.
But in reality, their opponent had merely raised a hand, and Astaroth, the strongest among them, had been silenced on the spot.
There had been no earth-shaking clash of Divine Might, no fierce contest of laws.
Only utter domination.
This man was not weak at all!
He had devoured the wreckage of the Divine Kingdom not to replenish himself, but simply to collect his spoils!
And the three of them had rushed forward to make themselves targets!
Bone-chilling terror pierced the Divine Souls of Nogros and Urganos.
Aisera had chosen to flee despite grievously damaging her Origin Essence, even sacrificing an ally to do it. Now they saw just how right she had been!
How could they have been foolish enough to think they could profit from this?
Run!
They had to run!
In that instant, the two gods understood each other better than any pact could have made them.
Boom!
Plague Throat Father Nogros's enormous mountain of rotting corpses suddenly contracted, then exploded!
Billions of writhing chunks of flesh, mixed with thick, plague-ridden Divine Might, became a devastating storm that swept indiscriminately in every direction.
But