In the empty hall, only the shattered Magic Circle on the floor retained a trace of color. The faint white light emitted by the building itself had created an effect like surgical lamps, but now that light was gradually being covered by vomit and blood, turning into grim, multicolored shadows.
Little Dai and Carol did not kill prisoners incapable of resisting, but Hela had no such qualms. Smiling, she killed one black-robed figure after another as they vomited or had already vomited themselves unconscious, as though she took tremendous pleasure in it.
Her Sword of Night was incredibly sharp, yet she refused to use it. Instead, she chose to tear her enemies' heads from their necks. Skulls with a section of spine still attached would make it easier to weave the Throne of Bones in the future.
Though she was not as broad-shouldered as Diana or as big-bottomed as Carol, her strength was no weaker at all. After all, she was a woman who could crush Mjolnir with her bare hands.
Su Ming's gaze lingered on Hela, who was "pulling turnips," for only a few seconds before turning to the black-robed figure before him. The other party stood quietly, and he could sense that the gaze beneath that hood was staring right back at him.
"Stop hiding. I've already recognized you, Ebony Maw. End this sneaking-around farce."
The Mercenary flicked his Lightsaber through a flourish, and gold left fan-shaped afterimages across the retina. His voice sounded sinister and hoarse, the voice modulator concealing every trace of emotion in his words.
The black-robed figure's shoulders moved, as though he had let out a long breath. His hands, which had been forming seals before his chest, slowly rose and grasped the edge of his hood, pulling it down.
It was a somewhat