With Wu Heng's movement, the air over Hell's scorched earth seemed to solidify into tangible malice.
The dark crystal in his palm was no longer merely an object. Like a beating heart, it began to resonate with the pulse of the surrounding infernal land.
The demonic energy scattered from the previous slaughter, the soul fragments permeating the air, even the chaotic power surging through the lava river beneath their feet—all of it seemed drawn by an invisible force field, transforming into visible dark motes that streamed into the palm-sized crystal like countless rivers flowing into the sea.
It was absorbing beyond its limits.
The patterns upon the crystal's surface, condensed from the essence of a thousand demons and twisted nature, suddenly lit up. No longer a faint gleam, they blazed with a deep crimson radiance like red-hot branding irons, too brilliant to look upon directly.
The light held no warmth. Instead, it carried an extreme cold that seemed capable of devouring everything.
As one of Hell's foremost beings, Lilith's spiritual senses went into a frenzied alarm. This was not simple fear of powerful energy, but the crushing pressure of a higher order of life—the primal terror of an ant facing a collapsing mountain or a raging tsunami.
It was the aura of a superior being.
She clearly saw that, centered on Wu Heng's palm, the very "structure" of space was groaning under unbearable strain. Minute yet tangible black cracks spread through the void around the crystal like a spiderweb.
This can't be resisted.
The thought pierced her mind like an icy spike.
Without the slightest hesitation, abandoning even the dignity and pride of Hell's queen, Lilith let out a shrill scream. Terror instantly filled her alluring eyes.
She plunged both hands into her own chest, reaching into her demonic soul-body,