The sound didn’t travel through the air.
It entered through the base of the skull, a high-hum, ear-splitting shriek that shook directly against the dura mater.
Chi Lian, hovering above the boiling lake, had thrown his head back. His jaws unhinged like a deep-sea viper, stretching until the skin of his throat turned semi-clear.
From the depths of the boiling blood pool, the leftover soul fragments of three hundred sacrificed fighters—men, women, and children slaughtered over six months of border raiding—were drawn into his mutated core.
Chi Lian didn’t use them to strike. He amplified their dying agony. That turned the karmic trauma into a multi-hum spiritual broadcast.
A Demonic Spiritual Denial-of-Service.
A Demonic DDOS attack.
EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-SKRRRRRR!
