After the Blood-Tentacle Tyrant's furious roar, an eerie, deathly silence settled over the palace.
The King of Spreading Fear still hung in the air.
His body was crumbling bit by bit. His massive carapace had split open at the chest, and the spatial rift at his core was still slowly widening.
Dark gold light poured incessantly from the depths of the rift, illuminating his entire body from within.
His tentacles hung limply, and the light in his compound eyes was gradually fading.
Clearly, he was dying.
Strangely, though, as death approached, he stopped wailing and struggling. He merely watched his surroundings in silence, with a peace that seemed almost like release. If the Spirit Race had facial expressions like humans did, then the King of Spreading Fear would surely have been smiling at that moment.
Because he finally no longer had to be afraid.
The problem was that while he no longer had to be afraid, the other Kings of the Sacred Spirits were beginning to feel fear!
Just then...
Boom!!!
A terrifying surge of psychic energy suddenly exploded through the palace.
"Bastard!!" The Blood-Tentacle Tyrant erupted in fury.
His psychic power swept through the entire palace like a tsunami. Caught off guard, several Kings of the Sacred Spirits closest to him were hurled away and slammed into the enormous pedestal behind them.
But none of those Kings of the Sacred Spirits even dared cry out in pain. They could only scramble to their feet and retreat to their positions.
"Bastard!"
The Blood-Tentacle Tyrant roared again.
The second psychic blast was even more terrifying than the first.
Space trembled around the palace. Countless floating Blood Crystals shattered, their fragments raining down in a torrential shower.
The entire palace shook.
"How did it come to this?! You useless fool!"
The Blood-Tentacle