The once rather cowardly evil god Baal had seen through it by now.
Or rather, it believed it had seen through the power displayed by this so-called ancestor of the Marrow Eaters, the Creator of the Darkness Clan.
It seemed that at most, he could only use the equivalent of ten bottles of Marrow Rot.
"Ant, this is your limit, isn't it?!"
"Since that's the case, it's time to end this." Two thick streams of white smoke shot from Baal's nostrils. Its crimson pupils, like two blood-red moons, glared fixedly at Wu Heng.
The evil spirit aura around its body turned into pale black mist, coiling over the battlefield.
The war had escalated.
The densely packed ordinary evil spirits around them had become mere decorations, things to embellish the atmosphere of the battlefield.
This was a battlefield belonging to Great Evil Spirits.
Like an ancient war, the field had been cleared, and all the evil spirits automatically retreated several hundred meters.
In truth, they wanted to flee much farther away rather than merely retreat such a short distance. But under the Great Evil Spirits' control, this place had already become a sinister dark domain, and that was its boundary.
"Are you sure this is my limit?"
"Perhaps I merely wanted to drag the war out a little longer and conserve some strength?" Wu Heng's expression did not change at all as he casually reached out.
Another ten bottles of Marrow Rot appeared. Together with the ones already in his hand, there were now twenty bottles.
To Marrow Eaters like Anthony, these were immensely precious items, yet Wu Heng seemed able to take them out at will.
"Or perhaps you want to test my limits by coming yourself, instead of using this grotesque, stupid pig as a target dummy!" Wu Heng