A mere mortal is about to ascend the divine ladder!
"Impressive!!" Immortal Slave couldn't help but exclaim in awe.
Orson returned to the real world, his eyes no longer uncertain. His battle-hardened will now focused on eliminating anyone who stood in his way.
"You shouldn't have frightened them, and you definitely shouldn't have used that disgusting voice to pollute my sister's ears," Orson said, his expression cold as he fixed Immortal Slave with a piercing look. His lips curled into a sinister smile. "To me, you're insignificant."
He paused, his staff pointing toward the heavens. Orson switched to his mage form, his voice low but commanding, "Awaken—Grip of the Underworld!"
The elemental hand struck out violently, but the target wasn't Immortal Slave.
Instead, it was the stone slab emitting faint strands of golden mist!
"No!!!"
