A wave of psychic energy, silent and invisible, slammed into Wang Jian's consciousness. It was the full, desperate power of a Nascent Soul remnant, a spiritual tsunami designed to obliterate a lesser mind, to shatter a weaker soul, and to clear the way for its grand rebirth. For Yue Lingshan and Liu Ruyan, even the peripheral shockwave was a crippling pressure, a spiritual terror that made their knees weak and their very souls tremble.
But for Wang Jian, it was dinner.
His eyes remained closed, his physical form slumped in a perfect imitation of unconsciousness. Yet, within the boundless, secret sea of his true self, the impact registered not as an attack, but as an offering.
'A remnant will, its power fragmented, its consciousness little more than instinct and ancient malice, dares to assault me?' A thought, cold and vast as a dying star, echoed in the depths of Wang Jian's soul. 'This is not a battle. This is a feast.'
