The God of Destruction looked at the heavy sword pointed at him. His patience had run out.
Back in the Divine Realm, his daily routine consisted of just three things: cultivating, patrolling, and reprimanding disobedient lower-ranking deities. But no one had ever dared speak to him in this tone.
Never.
Even that prickly fellow, the Asura God, at least treated him as an equal when arguing with him.
But this young man before him?
He looked down on him as though interrogating a prisoner.
"Enough."
The very thought of it had already soured the God of Destruction's mood. A purple light flashed in his eyes, and he had no intention of wasting any more words.
You wanted my identity, didn't you? Then let me show you what the God of Destruction is.
Then the God of Destruction raised his right hand and began unleashing his pressure.
In an instant, masses of purplish-black mist gushed from his body, expanding to cover dozens of yards around him.
Wherever the mist passed, rings of spiderweb cracks were eaten into the gray-black earth beneath his feet.
The air trembled, and even the ground showed faint signs of splitting.
As for the few crooked, oddly shaped rocks within several yards of him, they crumbled into dust one after another beneath that power of destruction.
This was the God of Destruction unleashing his full power.
In the Douluo God Realm, pressure of this level was enough to force every deity except the other four God Kings to prostrate themselves.
Even a Titled Douluo would not merely be unable to stand-they would not even be able to kneel steadily and would be flattened to the ground.
The God of Destruction intended to use this display to make these fools, who knew neither the height of heaven nor