Han Xin was in a divine state, raging. The man he loved had been stabbed in the heart and was dying in his arms. Under the control of a raw, divine power, Han Xin stood in the eye of a storm. His divine form blazed with celestial fury, a searing white light in the night. His luminous blue eyes locked onto Peng Xiu.
She staggered backward, the dagger falling from her bloodstained fingers. The murderous aura radiating from Han Xin was suffocating, a weight like a thousand storms pressing down on her soul. She trembled.
Then she screamed, a guttural scream that would make one's blood run cold. Her body began to disintegrate, piece by piece, as if the very atoms that held her together were being judged and found wanting. The pain was not of flesh. It was deeper, crueler. It tore through her soul, unraveling her essence with every breath.
Her scream was gut-wrenching, a sound that clawed at the heavens and echoed through the bones of the earth.
