He slowly rose. His movements were as slow as an elderly man's, but for every inch he straightened, the void around him shattered another inch.
By the time he stood upright, the void within a thousand yards had shattered completely, becoming a chaotic emptiness.
He raised a hand, and the dark gold Demon Saber fell into his grasp.
The dark red runes on the blade had turned entirely gray-white. A point of gray-white light flowed slowly along its edge, radiating a terrifying sense that all things would return to oblivion.
"Fang Chen!"
His voice was hoarse and calm, like ice frozen for ten thousand years. "The World Will has blessed us itself. You can die knowing your death was worthwhile!"
Bolstered by the Heavenly Demon Seven Kill Formation, the auras of the Thirty-Six True Demon Emperors surged to a terrifying level.
Fang Chen hovered beneath the Time Bell, facing that overwhelming demonic might head-on.
His expression remained calm, but fine beads of sweat had formed on his forehead.
Although the World Will had poured most of its gray-white light into the Devil Race, Fang Chen was another living being on this battlefield. He, too, bore the direct weight of that supreme pressure.
It pressed on his shoulders like an invisible Primordial Divine Mountain. It pressed into the depths of his soul, into every meridian and every cell in his body.
His Soul Perception was compressed to its limit. His Divine Sense, which had once covered hundreds of millions of miles, was now suppressed to less than ten thousand miles.
His body trembled faintly, every joint creaking under the strain.
But there was no fear in Fang Chen's eyes.
Only an almost crazed excitement.
Buzz, buzz, buzz!
The Floating Immortal Sword trembled wildly in his hand. The Dao Patterns on its