Grand Elder Feng Xuan didn’t hesitate.
With a sickening, deep-throated heave, the burned old man shoved the jagged, bleeding black glass fragments of the broken Stele straight down his own throat.
GULP. CRUNCH.
The sharp jade tore his throat-pipe open. Black blood bubbled from his nostrils and ears as he forced the foreign mass into his stomach.
*
Reality tore along its seams.
Feng Xuan was not cultivating. He was executing an unchecked, unconstrained merge with the raw, un-garbage-collected cosmic runtime of the corrupted Heavenly Dao.
His human flesh began to warp and mutate with ugly, unnatural speed.
