On this snowy night, the cold wind grew ever more biting.
Leaning on the Mysterious Abyss Saber, Yi Yang knelt on one knee, his chest heaving violently, every breath sending out a cloud of white mist.
His true qi was exhausted, his Divine Sense depleted.
But with the death of this Nine Evil Sect elder, sensation was slowly returning to his left hand and eyes, which had been sealed by the false Divine Power. Every muscle in his body protested, however, and exhaustion weighed on him.
Yi Yang had won.
All three Profound Connection Realm cultivators had been slain. Jiang Zhongtian's assignment was complete.
Yi Yang's taut nerves finally began to relax.
Yet at that very moment, a sudden change erupted within the crimson Blood Pool.
The head that should have been utterly dead-Shen Biluo's head-suddenly opened its eyes.
Those eyes no longer held human terror and unwillingness. Instead, they shone with the same uncanny crimson light as the Spiritblood True God Statue upon the altar.
A terrifying pressure, far beyond the Dharma Body Realm and enough to make the heart tremble, erupted from the head.
Like an invisible mountain, that pressure instantly enveloped the entire area. Even the great goose-feather snowflakes dancing through the sky froze in place.
Yi Yang's newly relaxed muscles snapped taut, his pupils shrinking to pinpoints. He wanted to move, to rise from the ground, to put some distance between them.
But that immense pressure pinned him in place. Even moving a finger became an impossible luxury.
"Ant..."
A low, inhuman voice emerged from the head's mouth, echoing through the snowy night.
"...you dared destroy the vessel of my descent."
The instant those words fell, a crimson strand of divine will crossed the distance with an irresistible intent and stabbed viciously into Yi Yang's brow.