Wu Heng stood amid the writhing remains of the evil spirit.
The basement had already become a miniature hell, filled with constantly flickering blood-red patterns and strange mist.
The air was saturated with bone-chilling cold.
The severed tentacles and limbs torn apart by the power of the arrogance trait still writhed across the floor, black blood mixed with ruptured eyeball fluid soaking into the rune-covered ground.
This made the red glow on the runes even more pronounced, as though they were siphoning nourishment from some kind of power.
The soul of Hannah, which Wu Heng had been holding in his hand, was casually tossed aside.
Hannah's now-clear soul immediately floated in place and rose to her feet, staring blankly at the collapsing scene before her.
This was completely beyond her expectations.
In her imagination, and in her final lingering thoughts, her brother should have ultimately been parasitized by evil, twisted into a monster, and then slaughtered everyone.
There would have been no time to stop it. The Morik Family would have been doomed to extinction.
She had already despaired, and she had never held even the slightest hope for her own survival.
But what was this situation now?
What had this descendant of the family done?
Why was she still alive?
At the basement entrance, Randolph, who had been ready to flee but had been pinned in place by the chilling aura, now collapsed limply on the ground, his face ashen.
Dark-red blood seeped from the torn wound on his left shoulder, staining half of his trench coat.
When the tentacles had completely erupted, he had thought it was all over.
He had tried to escape, only to discover that the surroundings had been completely sealed off by some invisible force field.
Moreover, that force field contained razor-sharp power. His