As the Tier 4 Foul Spirit and the Tier 4 Balrog gradually formed a pincer attack, the pressure around Ang suddenly soared.
Even the air seemed compressed into a suffocating heaviness, every breath becoming difficult.
Yet Ang's gaze remained icy, and he was not panicked.
He could sense that these two powerhouses from the Abyss Prison were not underestimating him. On the contrary, they feared him.
He knew very well that he was waiting for reinforcements, while the Abyss Prison side was waiting as well.
The patience and schemes of both sides were silently locked in a contest.
Before long, the two Abyss Prison Gates beside the Gate of Foul Spirits began to tremble as well. Layer upon layer of gray-black spatial ripples spread outward, as though they would tear apart the surrounding earth.
A Tier 4 spiderfolk and a Tier 4 Faceless One were struggling to squeeze through.
Their enormous bodies oppressed the void, and every wriggle made the entire Maple Sugar Plane let out a muffled wail.
Ang's gaze fell upon the Faceless One, and his brow furrowed slightly.
Unlike its past supple, twisted form, the Faceless One now possessed a rigid, solid texture.
It was clearly unable to use its most adept innate talent while resisting the plane's rejection.
A thought stirred in Ang's heart. So that's how it is... At this stage, its power isn't entirely without weaknesses.
His thoughts lingered for only a moment.
At that instant, the Tier 4 Foul Spirit and the Tier 4 Balrog exchanged a glance, a certain tacit understanding flashing in their eyes.
Ang's heart tightened.
The next moment, the Tier 4 Foul Spirit suddenly raised its hand, and a spear condensed from pure darkness howled through the air.
The air was instantly torn apart, and the spear's deadly radiance