Crowley walked toward the warehouse door, but stopped at the threshold and looked back.
His gaze swept across the entire warehouse—over the pale yellow slime, the pits in the floor, and the wreckage hanging from the ceiling.
Finally, his eyes swept through the surrounding shadows. There was nothing there, only ordinary darkness.
Crowley smiled, pushed open the door, and left. Only he knew about this.
His footsteps faded away.
The warehouse fell completely silent.
The moonlight shifted, and patches of light slowly crawled across the floor.
Five minutes later, the shadows in the northwest corner suddenly stirred.
Wu Heng stepped out of the shadows.
He walked to the center of the warehouse and stood at the edge of the five-meter-wide pit. He looked down at the lingering golden glow at the bottom, then raised his head and surveyed the destruction around him.
His face showed no expression.
No surprise, no anger, no concern. It was as though he were looking at something that had nothing to do with him.
Then he stretched out his hand and made a grasping motion at the air.
The pale yellow slime, the remnants of golden energy, the shattered rune fragments, and the lingering echoes of the Incantation in the air—all those intangible things were forcibly gathered by an unseen force, compressed, and finally condensed into a fist-sized ball of light in his palm.
Within the ball of light, everything that had just happened could be seen: the drawing of the spell array, the chanting of the Incantation, the eruption of the pillar of light, Castiel absorbing Leviathan, and Crowley being imprisoned.
A complete record of the "Purgatory Opening Ritual."
Wu Heng clenched his fist, crushing the ball of light. It turned into countless specks of light that merged into his body.
Then he turned