Then a third, fourth, fifth, each break punctuated by a deafening pulse of hell-touched energy. By the sixth, Wu Jinhai screamed, eyes wide with disbelief. The final layer barely held, flickering, vibrating under the weight of the beast above it.
And in that fraction of hesitation—
Damien struck.
His spear blinked not through distance, but through time, phasing into a moment just before Wu Jinhai tried to shift, reappearing behind him with devastating precision. Damien's thrust came from the nape, death energy trailing like the tail of a comet, sharpened by space, bound in the certainty of entropy.
Wu Jinhai twisted, divine aura condensing just enough to deflect the blow.
Barely.
Even so, Damien's spear grazed his shoulder, tearing through robes woven by saints, slicing flesh that had never been touched.
Blood spilled.
It glowed.
It hissed.
"You bastard!" Wu Jinhai roared. "You dare stain my divine body?! I'll drown your soul in sanctified flame!"
