"Move..." Jared's voice was soft, yet the lone word sliced through the frozen stillness like cold steel.
He strode forward without a backward glance at the grotesque ice statues they had left behind. Each step was measured, almost leisurely, as though the slaughter moments earlier had been no more than a brisk evening stroll.
Behind him, Vermilion Demon Lord and Clara traded a glance, and in that fleeting exchange, both tasted the same emotion, reverence so deep it brushed the edge of fear.
With the ease of a lifted hand, he had crushed and erased twelve Heavenly-Immortal experts, two of them sixth-grade elites.
Power of that magnitude hovered beyond anything the pair, or anyone they knew, could truly comprehend.
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