The sound that came from Magistrate Kui’s chest was not a scream.
It was the terrifying, hollow whistle of a high-pressure storage tank discharging ten mountain-crushing pressure of pressure into an open pipeline.
The two silver-liquid silver soldered wires glowed blinding white, their copper jackets vaporizing in a puff of acrid green smoke.
Yet the spiritual connection didn’t break.
The Precursor dark rock end-post drank the Judge’s Body Integration Qi with the insatiable, bottomless appetite of a dead star.
Kui’s third eye fluttered wildly, the golden fluid leaking down his cheeks turning to clear, watery glassy fluid as his training reserves evaporated.
His muscles withered, his bronze-tinted skin greying and sagging against his cheekbones like an ancient mummy’s.
“Devil...” Kui gasped, his fingers trembling on the shaft of the Soul-Shattering Rod. “You’re draining my foundation... My three-thousand-year sea...”
