"For you to find that woman," the Emperor's voice was a whisper, yet it filled the vast space, "it must not have been coincidental."
Greater power, ancient and immeasurable, uncoiled from the Emperor. It didn't rush like a wind or crash like a wave. It simply was majestic and terrifying. The pressure descended, a mountain of invisible force, and pinned the Demon King. His soul convulsed.
Cracks spread across his face, a network of lines like shattered porcelain. Black veins, thick as rope, split open and crawled down his neck and chest. He was coming apart.
He tried to scream, but no sound came. Divine force sealed his mouth, trapping the horror inside. Only the tremor of his body and the widening of his eyes showed the pain. His defiance, his dark pride, it all crumbled.
Then, a voice echoed inside his mind, a cold and absolute thing. "I will only let you go when you speak the name of who is helping you."
