Above the ruins of the Law Net Headquarters, dark red mist hung in the shattered rifts of space like dried blood scabs.
Chu Qing stood atop the keel of the Black Bone Ship.
The dark purple Demon God manifestation, with four heads and seventy-two arms upon its back, was slowly contracting. Its muscle fibers twisted and throbbed madly beneath the flesh like startled pythons, folding back into the depths of his spine amid waves of teeth-grinding crackles.
Chu Qing's shoulders swayed, and an extraordinarily dry muffled sound spilled from his throat.
His black cloth robes had already been torn into strips, exposing his bronze-colored back. Dark Gold patterns were fading bit by bit through his pores, yet the scorching heat brought by the Purple True Blood still warped the surrounding air with a searing distortion.
On the deck.
Not one of the hundred top geniuses from various worlds could remain standing.
Ye Wushuang gripped his sword hilt desperately, his knuckles turning a ghastly white from exertion. His fingertips gouged several bloody scratches into the bone deck. His chin trembled violently, and the creak of his teeth grinding together sounded especially jarring in this deathly silent starfield.
Chu Qing turned around.
His steps were steady. His bare soles landed on the deck, sending out dull tremors.
The golden gleam in his pupils had yet to fully fade. Liuli-colored radiance flickered in the deepest depths of his eyes like two clusters of cold fire.
Chu Qing examined this body. That Divinity capable of erasing all things with a wave of his hand was still rampaging through his mind. When he looked at these living creatures before him, he actually felt as if he were looking at flickering numbers. His humanity was slipping away, so quickly that even his own spine ran cold.