The crystal flask in Emperor Ji Wudao’s trembling hand shattered with a sharp, wet pop.
A viscous, oily liquid the color of dried scabs poured over his bleeding fingers. It hissed furiously as it touched the air, emitting a rancid odor of sulfur, graveyard dirt, and burned copper that made the ministers twenty paces away gag and vomit.
“Useless trash!” Ji Wudao shrieked, his voice no longer resembling anything human. “My ministers are cowards! My generals are sheep! My ancestors are broken bones! But I am the Son of Heaven! I am a Rank 7 Peak Earth-Immortal with the Nine-Dragon Imperial Soul! Die, Lin Mo!”
He jammed the jagged crystal shards directly into his own mouth. He swallowed the forbidden Soul-Burning Blood Elixir along with broken glass, shredded gums, and his own cracked teeth.
BOOOOOOM!
The marble dais beneath his feet vaporized into black ash in a fraction of a heartbeat.
Ji Wudao’s body did not merely grow. It distorted violently, bones snapping, extending, and reforming with wet, sickening cracks that sounded like trees splintering in an avalanche. Black and crimson dragon scales burst through his pale skin, tearing his tattered imperial undergarments into floating rags. His skull elongated into a monstrous horned snout dripping with thick black bile.
