The air above Lin Ke didn’t fall. It collapsed.
Grand Elder Feng Xuan raised his open right palm, turning his slender fingers toward the stone.
Around Lin Ke, Meng Shan, and Shen Yue, the surrounding air pressure began to climb with terrifying, sharp-angled gaining speed.
Ten sea-weights. Twenty sea-weights. Forty sea-weights.
The invisible weight was equivalent to dropping four hundred yards beneath the surface of an iron ocean.
Lin Ke’s ears burst with wet, muffled pops, trickles of dark blood running down both jawbones. The seams of Meng Shan’s iron tower shield bowed inward, the solid metal groaning like an overloaded ship hull.
Beneath Lin Ke’s knees, the white jade flat stone slabs developed spiderweb fractures. It crumbled into fine, crushed chalk under the nearby sky high-pressure press.
At fifty sea-weights, the human thorax would cave in, lungs collapsing into bloody paste against the spine.
