Spirit Sacrifice stepped aside.
Wu Heng stared at the seven Coffin Nails and placed his hand on the coffin. In an instant, an eerie stabbing pain pierced into his body—it was the phantoms of those seven nails.
He gathered Nightmare Power within himself, attempting to block the nails' invasion.
There was no flesh or blood inside him, only Nightmare Power. Yet under the nails' piercing, it felt as though they had been driven into a physical body.
Pain!
This pain was like the torment brought about by having his pain tolerance weakened.
In terms of sheer intensity, it was probably only comparable to Leviathan's Pain Trait.
But that eerie, curse-like weakening force had lowered Wu Heng's endurance, which already surpassed that of an ordinary Hell Lord, down to the level of a pseudo-hell.
Just like Nailhead enduring Leviathan's pain.
Wu Heng's heart tightened. Even he was affected like this—no wonder Spirit Sacrifice and Night Rain had been in such pain that they immediately let go earlier!
This was enough to show that their endurance had also surpassed others of the same level. They truly deserved to be outstanding figures among association presidents.
Barely enduring the seven iron nails, Wu Heng grabbed the coffin and heaved upward with all his strength.
The Fear Hell within him enveloped his body in phantom form.
"This!"
Spirit Sacrifice and Night Rain, standing nearby, were stunned. They stared fixedly at the two phantom spheres, one large and one small, surrounding Wu Heng.
The two of them sensed a power entirely different from their own systems within them. The quality of that power was even thirty percent greater than theirs.
But it was still useless!
Wu Heng was also shocked. Looking at the faintly cold Black Coffin, he found that trying to lift it was like