Michael: Here's the Truth-You're All My Power Banks

At the center of the Supreme Sacred Domain.

The pressure had reached a tipping point.

The black-and-white wings on Lucifer's back were pinned tight against her, their bones creaking under the strain.

A trickle of purple blood escaped the corner of her mouth.

It was a sign that her Origin had been damaged.

"Yang Yu..."

Lucifer turned her head toward the man beside her with difficulty.

"I might not... last much longer."

"If you've got another trump card, now's the time."

"Otherwise..."

"We really are going to end up as soy milk under this giant grindstone."

Yang Yu wasn't doing much better.

His fleshly body, tough enough to withstand the Two-Dimensional Foil, was covered in fine cracks.

He looked like a porcelain doll on the verge of shattering.

Blood seeped through the cracks, only to evaporate instantly in the heat, becoming Blood Mist.

But his eyes burned with a frightening light.

"Don't panic."

Yang Yu's voice was hoarse, but it still carried his stubborn ferocity.

"I haven't hit my limit yet."

"I feel like... I can take one more bite!"

Just as Yang Yu prepared to burn his Divinity and fight those feathered bastards to the death...

Suddenly.

The terrifying pressure that had nearly crushed him...

Without any warning...

Eased a little.

It wasn't fading because the Array had run out of power.

It was an eerie retreat, like the tide pulling back.

"Huh?"

Yang Yu froze.

He instinctively looked up.

The enormous Light Grindstone overhead hadn't dimmed. After absorbing the sacrifice of countless lives, it had grown even brighter and more violent.

By all rights...

The pressure should have doubled.

So why...

Was the force bearing down on him getting weaker?

"Aunt Lucifer, do you feel..."

Yang Yu frowned, unsure how to put it.

"Did those feathered bastards miss?"