The Black Bone Ship slammed into the half-collapsed giant tower.
There was no earth-shattering roar that shattered the starfield, nor any scream of twisting metal. The entire ship seemed to have crashed into an enormous mass of semi-transparent, aged glue.
The ship's speed dropped to a crawl within half a second. The Gods and Demons Spine along the keel gave a heavy, muffled groan as it was forcibly compressed. Chu Qing stood at the bow, his right hand clenched tightly around the Overlord Spear, his nails scratching a white mark into its shaft.
His body lurched violently forward from inertia. Only by digging his toes into the deck did he steady himself.
Countless drops of blood hung silently in the void.
Every drop retained the shape it had taken the instant it splattered forth—round, scarlet, yet utterly motionless. Chu Qing reached out and brushed aside one drop with his fingertip. A trace of coldness stained the gap beneath his nail.
Time here had been severed cleanly at the root.
(Motive): Chu Qing sensed the lingering suppression of a higher status in the air.
(Action): He closed his eyes and felt the faint ripples touching his skin.
(Physiological reaction): His pupils abruptly shrank to pinpoints, and a chill shot up his spine.
This aura...
In his sea of consciousness, he sketched that enormous blue-green hand. Every corner of this place radiated that nauseating coldness—the kind that treated all things as expendable materials.
"L-Lord..."
Ye Wushuang's exceptionally slow voice came from behind him.
With time cut off, Ye Wushuang's movements had been slowed by hundreds or thousands of times. He was trying to draw his sword, his fingers resting on the hilt as they scraped outward inch by inch. His facial muscles were twisted from excessive exertion, while the veins bulging at