The gaunt figure in the cloak radiated a terrifying pressure as vast as mountains and seas. Overhead, the Blood Moon hung high, shining on him alone.
With a wave of his hand, the man could summon the phantom of a meteor. His very real strength showed Bai Zhou exactly how he had survived centuries of covert activity in Tinghai.
Even Major Luo, the juvenile Saint who had been driven into his ultimate form and charged in bearing a small world, had never made Bai Zhou feel the suffocating pressure this calm-faced Holy Son did.
The reason was simple: he looked too calm. So calm that this felt like only the beginning, as though the terrifying meteor that had destroyed an entire street and stood at the pinnacle of Lifeforger power had been nothing but an appetizer.
He seemed like one of those world-destroying villains from a fantasy story—and perhaps even worse.
"Care to guess whether the next Blood Moonfall will bring down the meteor itself?"
Just thinking about what the Holy Son had said made everyone who had heard him go cold all over. Their hearts pounded without pause.
"Cough, cough, cough—"
The Holy Son's face grew even paler. Clearly, that attack had placed some strain on his "gravely ill body."
What made him terrifying, though, was that he always looked on the verge of coughing himself to death, yet somehow kept living.
Like a rotting lich from a fantasy story.
"Running would be futile. I wouldn't advise it, though that's only advice. You're welcome to try. After all, you had no intention of completing the task I gave you this time. Very disobedient."
His soft words answered the Lifeforger from earlier, but he also seemed to have seen through the foot Bai Zhou held poised over the accelerator.
The