Flames rose as evil spirits roared.
Dozens of the surrounding buildings instantly turned into powder.
After the fierce battle, Nietzsche stood there expressionlessly with the high priest's neck in his hands.
"Ha…" The high priest's face was blank. As the cost of transforming into a spirit, he had lost his intelligence long ago.
"Burn!"
Golden flames burnt him into practically nothing, but Nietzsche did not feel the satisfaction of revenge, only endless emptiness and fear.
He looked up at the sky.
Above the curtain of night, the vertical eye within the triangle grew increasingly vivid, containing the feeling of being unparalleled.
Even in his current state, he still felt helpless against the entire sky.
The next moment, Nietzsche sensed something and jumped into the sky.
A massive symbol of the Dark Ritual suddenly concentrated into a black ball and descended like a meteor.
Smack!
