The gravity in the Administrative Hall didn’t increase gradually. It dropped like a lead metal bar falling into water.
A wave of crushing, high-thickness spiritual mass exploded outward from Ghost-General Ox-Head’s iron hooves, pinning Magistrate Cui flat against the stone floor until the judge’s glasses shattered beneath his nose. Even the heavy ebony desks groaned, their thick legs splintering outward under four times normal world-size weight.
Ox-Head’s training baseline was terrifying. A Peak Golden Core combat build assembled during the First Epoch, docked directly to the Netherworld’s central soul-leyline power grid.
Long as his hooves remained planted on the granite floor. Then, the general drew endless, uninterrupted current from four thousand miles of underground leylines. Any moving damage inflicted on his iron chassis would regenerate in fractions of a second.
He lifted his twenty-foot soul-reaping cleaver with casual, easy grace. That brought it back for a level sweep that would bisect the entire front half of the room.
In the quiet pause of his thoughts, Lin Ke evaluated the combat physics.
Head-to-head engagement was suicide. Meng Shan’s body training was Mid Golden Core. Even with his distributed earth vessels. He took a direct blow from an externally powered Peak Golden Core build would overload his grounding channels and blow his marrow to steam.
