"Drip... drip..."
Inside the great hall of the Heaven Dou Imperial Palace, it was as silent as death.
That hair-raising sound of liquid dripping had become the only note in this sealed space.
Qian Renxue was suspended in midair by thick Shadow Chains. Golden-red Angel God power slid down her pale skin, drop by drop, striking the shattered white jade floor tiles before being greedily devoured in an instant by those dark-red array patterns that writhed like blood vessels.
Every loss of divine power came with agony like her soul was being torn apart, making her body spasm slightly beyond her control.
And yet, in the very center of this palace hall that had completely become a brutal execution ground, an utterly absurd scene was unfolding.
Han Yuchen sat steadily in that exquisitely crafted Huanghuali Grandmaster Chair, legs crossed, his posture so languid he looked as if he were sunning himself in his own back garden.
He did not even glance at Qian Renxue, who was suffering torment in midair. Instead, with unhurried ease, he took out an extremely delicate Purple Clay Tea Set from that unfathomable Dimensional Space and placed each piece one by one on a Starlight Side Table that condensed out of thin air beside him.
His slender finger tapped lightly, and the suffocating hundred-thousand-year blood-red radiance of his Fourth Soul Ring merely flashed past in the depths of his eyes.
Fourth Soul Skill · Turbulent Dragon Strike
This terrifying single-target divine burst skill, which should have been enough to destroy a city wall in an instant, was now forcibly stripped by him through micromanipulation so precise it was outrageous, leaving only the purest, sweetest wisp of Water Element.
The clear stream of water was like a small living snake. It circled once in midair, then fell