Wuhan blinked, but he still saw no end to the people around him.
No throat. No tongue. No light.
Only teeth.
The wind screamed around the battlefield as the slug let out an ear-piercing screech—one that made the earth shudder and the already-scattered clouds spiral above.
Then it dived.
The slug twisted its bloated mass in the sky and plummeted toward Wuhan from above like a living meteor. Its shadow engulfed him, darkening the earth beneath.
Helena's eyes gleamed with savage anticipation. "It's over," she whispered coldly.
The slug was nearly upon him now—its mouth wide open, the abyss spinning, a thousand drills ready to rend the Emperor into nothing.
And yet—Wuhan did not move.
He stared straight into the threat of death, unflinching.
…
Back in the middle of the castle, the golden-haired priestess was looking towards the sky, just like Noah, leaving Sylvheriel there with a confused look on her face.
