Worldly Lord

In the dark world that was permeated with a deadly aura, above the throne of bones, a dark figure suddenly jolted violently. He then opened his eyes, while fury raged in his gray pupils.

"Da*n that Martial Ancestor!" he cried out, while an endless death-gas swept throughout the world, making countless creatures shiver.

His anger lasted for quite a long time before he gradually was able to suppress his foul mood. He looked darkly at his left hand, where there was now only a mere stump.

A cloud of death-gas swirled around the area where his palm had been severed, and then, a gray palm grew from that same spot. However, his expression was still ugly.

Since every part of his flesh had undergone so much trauma, even if his body was to regenerate now, it would definitely not be as tough or strong as it used to be. This would surely cause this new left hand to be a weakness and flaw in the future, when he was faced against his enemies.