The net of wrinkles on Grim Reaper Herpo's face deepened, and the knots formed by his two brows locked together. Sweat kept seeping from his forehead, gathering on the tip of his nose.
But the old man had no attention to spare for wiping away sweat he had not shed in a thousand years. Having finally figured out his opponent's scheme and intentions, the Grim Reaper instantly erupted with divine power. The world beneath his feet immediately sped toward the Great Wall, racing for that territory that belonged to the living.
Grim Reaper Herpo's brow had only just relaxed, but before he could feel the expected end to the loss of vitality, masses of black energy shaped like Raven Feather appeared amid his dimensional shift. They gushed and spun. The feathers formed from that black energy were now like the long tentacles of cuttlefish, boiling like countless long snakes, curling, stretching, and blooming wildly through the air, and also like layer upon layer of ocean waves, advancing in crisscrossing surges as they rapidly rolled forward.
In the blink of an eye, they reached Grim Reaper Herpo. Layer after layer of black wrapped around him, tightly entangling his limbs and body. The scene that had been moving backward at high speed began to surge forward again—the Grim Reaper was dragged back to the spot where he had been in the Underworld, as if he had never left at all.
Casting without pause to temporarily disperse the black feathers, Grim Reaper Herpo, determined to flee to the world of the living, had no mind to complain or retaliate. Instead, he immediately gave up maintaining the dignity of a god, and also abandoned that unique traditional method from moments ago, beginning to use a mortal wizard's means of twisting and misting away.
With