At the Holy Spirit Cult's headquarters, the dim, oppressive hall reeked of blood and decay. High upon a towering throne, the cult's leader, the Demon Empress, reclined languidly. She wore a close-fitting dark purple gown, its sumptuous fabric hugging every rise and fall of her alluring curves and outlining a breathtaking waist and hips. Her slightly open neckline revealed a patch of delicate, snow-white skin that gleamed like cold jade in the dim light. Her long legs were elegantly crossed, one over the other, her toes swaying gently with the rhythm of her breathing. She radiated the allure unique to a mature woman, along with the terrifying pressure of a god-level powerhouse.
She narrowed her eyes slightly, looking down at the man who had suddenly intruded into the center of the hall. Her red lips parted, her voice carrying a hint of careless languor and coldness. "Speak. What exactly are you here to do?"
The man before her was covered in black robes, his broad collar spreading to either side as an enormous black cloak trailed behind him like endless darkness. His long, lustrous white hair was crystalline, his complexion fair, and his handsome features bordered on the uncanny. Most unsettling of all were his black eyes. They had no whites, only a depth like a bottomless abyss, as though one glance too many would devour a person's soul completely.
The man remained expressionless, showing no trace of panic beneath the pressure of a god-level powerhouse. He looked straight at the Demon Empress, his tone as casual as if he were discussing the weather. "Nothing much. I merely wish to destroy this Douluo Continent—or rule it. You have no objection to that, I presume?"
At his words, the Demon Empress's lips curled into a mocking smile. She gently swirled the