Twisted, terrifying power took shape between heaven and earth, as though the rules of the entire world were prostrate beneath that colossal giant. He Ao felt his entire body rapidly stiffening and warping, as if the weight of the whole world rested upon his shoulders, forcing him to bow and kneel.
Crack.
Under that violent force of rules, clear fractures appeared across his body, which had been constructed entirely from power.
His movements grew increasingly difficult, and his body slowed further and further.
Yet he did not stop. He still raised his head and stared at Slan.
He took a step forward.
Slan stared into those eyes, and the smile on his face gradually froze.
He had seen that look long ago—on the burning altar, in the eyes of the slave at its center.
There was no fear or retreat in them, only absolute hatred and fury.
The gaze of one who defied a king.
That unbearable memory surged into Slan's mind and flooded his soul. His body trembled, and the suppression of the surrounding rules abruptly weakened. He Ao appeared before him in an instant, raising the black blade high as it lengthened by hundreds of meters in a flash.
He brought the sword down.
The brilliant sword light instantly severed the flames covering Slan's body, cut through his body itself, and split his enormous shell into two. The Underworld creatures wrapped in flames rapidly collapsed in a short time, scattering into drifting firelight.
He Ao withdrew his hand, and the black longsword instantly shrank back to its original form.
Naturally, Slan could not have lost control of his own abilities and exposed such an obvious opening.
But a Fate Weaver was an expert in memories, while the power contained within the Coffin of Years excelled at manipulating cognition.