At this moment, dark crimson blood-clouds spread through the sky.
In everyone's vision, a shrill streak of blood seemed to appear—writhe, tear, pierce through, open.
It was a wound.
The wound of heaven and earth, and also the body of the Blood Sea Dragon.
Blood spread, and thus rain appeared.
Endless rain soaked all things between heaven and earth. Its color was red, its meaning was blood. It was vitality, devouring, transformation—the things within the belly and the teeth outside it.
With its arrival, boundaries began to blur. The air grew viscous, the light became heavy, and even floating dust seemed to bear mountains upon its back as it fell feebly toward the earth.
Countless slender strands of bloody rain hung down from heaven and earth's wound, like countless winding, warm blood vessels joining with the land.
Rain fell, and thus thunder appeared.
The blood-red lightning carried an even stronger will: the weak were meat for the strong, to eat and be eaten. Scarlet, savage currents twisted and knotted together, and the instant they were born, they struck down upon the head of a being.
They struck upon the long horn of a dragon.
The instant the lightning descended, there was no explosion, no deafening crash—only a long, muffled hum, like an ancient great bell being struck.
The bell's toll seemed to be a signal of activation. That immense, majestic beast—that peerless True Spirit—raised its head.
The rotting, ulcerated flesh upon "its" surface splattered outward beneath the lightning's tempering. Every drop that fell upon the earth was like lava, corroding and swallowing all matter.
And this was merely the decay upon the dragon's body.
And now, "He" opened His eyes.
Pitch-black pupils, with only a point of scarlet bloodlight at their centers, lit up like dead stars.
The light stretched,