A silk-bright moon hangs in the sky, stars glittering all around. The winter night, swept by a biting wind, wraps the battlefield in an indescribable atmosphere of deathly stillness—moving all present, freezing even the heavens themselves.
A figure in black drifts in the wind.
Andrew Han descends violently, seizing the seventh middle-tier Netherfiend!
“Hiss!”
A Netherfiend cries out in panic, fleeing from Andrew Han.
Yet the middle-tier Netherfiends, each rivaling a Venerable Saint, stare in wide-eyed disbelief—they never imagined Andrew Han could become even stronger!
“Th-this—”
The middle-tier Netherfiend caught in Andrew Han’s grasp is frozen with terror.
It is on the verge of collapse; its grotesque, split head goes slack, staring blankly up at Andrew Han—the greatest human prodigy in history, wreathed in divine might.
His black coat snaps and flutters in the wind.
It frames his cold, indifferent face.
But that is far from all. Behind him... the entire black sky above the East Sea is split by a dazzling, ten-thousand-meter-long streak—a radiant cyan beam, perfectly straight, as if a track cleaving the heavens in two.
The beam of light is condensed to the extreme.
It’s like a rainbow spanning the sky.
This track of light begins at the Seafoam Front, crossing ten thousand meters of night sky in just a few breaths.
It’s like a glorious immortal bridge spanning the ends of the earth, connecting east and west, rippling with sound waves and shockwaves. The long night and biting winter are split apart—the whole battlefield falls silent, the East Sea starfield itself cut in two.
"I told you."
Andrew Han gazes at the middle-tier Netherfiend.
"I will tear you apart."
Andrew Han’s face is shadowed with murderous intent. He stretches out both hands, grabbing and ripping the Netherfiend’s body in midair—splitting it into four pieces... then again, and again... tearing and rending, over and over.
So-called middle-tier Netherfiends are the equals of Venerable Saints.
But right now, before Andrew Han, they are nothing but chickens and stray dogs!
In a flash, the radiant giant palm twists over a dozen times; the blood-soaked, grotesque Netherfiend head and body, weak as cotton, are torn into dozens of pieces by Andrew Han.
Even so—
It still isn’t dead!
"Help me!"
"Help me—aaah!" It screams, voice shrill and piercing. The vitality of a middle-tier Netherfiend is truly terrifying; an ordinary Venerable Saint would struggle to kill one outright.
But to Andrew Han—
He simply doesn’t want to end its life too quickly.
To the side—
The Law Realm experts still locked in fierce combat surge with renewed momentum.
They are overwhelmed with joy and excitement at Andrew Han’s arrival, having caught a glimpse of his magnificent feat—racing ten thousand meters, subduing a middle-tier Netherfiend. Their hearts are shaken; they look up to him in awe.
Crushing all before him!
An unstoppable force!
He is likely approaching the very peak of Venerable Saint power.
"Heaven bless Sinovera—Andrew Han truly is the strongest prodigy."
"No wonder the Supremes say Andrew Han is humanity’s hope. At this rate, give him ten more years and he might surpass even the Supreme Saint!"
Such an appraisal shakes the ages.
In all the thousands of years of human civilization, no one has ever deserved such lofty praise... for to surpass the Supreme Saint is a feat spoken of only in myth and legend.
Even the strongest today, Supreme Zhang of Sinovera, admits he cannot fathom the path beyond Supreme Saint.