His palm faced downward as he slowly thrust it out toward the darkness on the ground.
Crack!
It was neither thunder nor an explosion, but the sound of fate snapping—as though someone high in Heaven had broken a bone.
Then, a colossal silver-white, translucent hand of energy descended violently from the sky, vast enough to blot out the heavens.
The hand covered the entire expanse of darkness. Every finger was as thick as a mountain range, and its palm lines crisscrossed like dried riverbeds.
At the heart of the darkness, a gigantic female face formed from black mist, as large as a city.
There was no body, no limbs—only a face. A furious, twisted, insane face.
Its eyes were two black holes, and its mouth was a massive rift.
It let out a furious roar. The sound did not emerge from its throat; it exploded directly from the void, making all of Heaven tremble.
"You can't catch me!"
Wu Heng snorted. "Did you think I hadn't noticed you?"
The silver-white translucent palm came down.
Like someone swatting a mosquito to death, like a bowl covering a fly.
The giant face of darkness was pressed beneath the palm. It struggled and roared, its mouth opening and closing frantically as dark energy surged out through the gaps between the fingers, only to be forced back in.
The two black-hole eyes on the giant face were wide open, as if glaring at Wu Heng—and at fate itself.
The hand closed, like fingers around an egg, gently yet steadily gripping it.
The dark energy was compressed. From the size of a city to the size of a mountain, from a mountain to a house, from a house to a person, from a person to a fist, from a fist to a marble.
The silver-white