Mao Yuanzuo's face appeared on the surface of the liquid-metal slime, and he began rambling the same delirious words over and over. "Die, die, die! Everyone has to die! The will of the void, infinite power, eternal life! La la la la!"
He had started singing a wildly off-key song, while his slime-like, viscous body sprouted countless twisted tentacles. The eerie monster simply danced and capered in place, as if releasing all the pressure it had built up over a lifetime.
But as the bloody mist in the room slowly seeped into its body, the metallic sheen of its form took on a dazzling crystalline quality.
Mao Yuanzuo took a deep breath and regained his composure. He... or rather, it, lifted its head. Its blood-red gaze pierced ten thousand meters of rock and ten thousand meters of ocean, sensing the turmoil on the surface.
It seemed to sense every movement on the entire planet.
Mao Yuanzuo had never felt anything like this before.
He was the chairman of the Co-Prosperity Party, and had controlled the Commonwealth's political scene from behind the scenes for nearly half a century. Even in Marshal Li's era, he had still been the most powerful person on Earth.
He was a saint, one of the pinnacles of Earth's occult arts. For a long time, he had even been the only Earthling capable of discussing the Dao with Lan Jiufeng.
Yet he had never before felt that he could hold all things in the palm of his hand. His will now enveloped the entire planet. He could intervene in every blade of grass and every flower and tree at any moment.
So this was the power of a void-realm lord? If I were still human, what level would I have to reach to experience this? The eighth