Trapped inside the four-hundred-foot diamond container, Grand Elder Feng Xuan went entirely mad.
The corrupted sovereign didn’t try to negotiate. He didn’t seek to flee.
He gathered every shred of his Mid-Soul Formation training, burning the final dregs of his stolen life-force into an ultimate, suicidal storm of divine slaughter:
“NINE HEAVENS SOVEREIGN WRATH!”
Thirty huge serpents of tightly packed spatial storm and black cosmic lightning erupted from his mutated torso.
Each dragon was fifty feet long, writhing with jagged, reality-tearing blades of unallocated static, traveling at faster-than-sound speed within the enclosed space.
Inside a closed cage of that volume, thirty spatial dragons bouncing off the walls would transform the inside into a nonstop, self-amplifying meat-grinder of total ruin.
*
