The cage's iron bars gleamed with a cold light, slicing Tang Hao's hunched silhouette into fragments. The curses from below crashed against the golden barrier like a tide, spittle and rotten leaves leaving filthy streaks across its surface. Yet Tang Hao kept his head lowered, like a clay statue without a soul.
He did not want to speak, nor did he dare.
Twelve years of hiding and running, the agony of losing an arm, the despair of his shattered dream of godhood, and the humiliation of Bibi Dong crushing his Divine Slaughter's Domain and interrupting his Ring Detonation just moments ago had long since worn away every sharp edge he possessed.
He only wanted this trial to end quickly. Even having his head severed with a single stroke would have been better than being gawked at and cursed like a monkey by the entire continent.
But Spirit Hall would never grant him his wish.
In a secret chamber in Spirit City, some distance away, a young man not yet twenty was watching a live broadcast of the trial platform.
He looked only thirty-something, with a face so ordinary that he would vanish into a crowd. Only his eyes stood out: their pupils were an eerie dark gold, as though densely engraved with countless runes.
His left hand held the transformed blueprint, while the index and middle fingers of his right hand pressed together, faint streams of golden light swirling around their tips.
"My turn to take the stage."
The Soul Rings on his body suddenly lit up, and the patterns on the talisman instantly shone. On the trial platform, Tang Hao felt an invisible mental force slip into his mind through his seven orifices like an icy venomous snake, coiling tightly around his soul.
"Ugh—!"
Tang Hao's entire body suddenly