Gave Hella A Sleeping Pill
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Before Zane's voice could reach Hela's ears, his pupils flared with two blinding red circles. In an instant, his figure vanished from Hela's sight. Before she could locate him again, her body, honed by countless battles, began sending her intense warnings.
Much like Odin's battle instincts, before Hela's conscious mind could react, her divine power surged to her right arm, forming a thick layer of metal armor.
But in the face of Zane's SS-level skill, [Mystic Eyes of Death Perception], even the strongest defense was meaningless. The moment Hela chose to endure Zane's attack rather than intercept it, her defeat was sealed.
The Reaper's Scythe suddenly appeared at Hela's right side, tracing a profound arc through the air. It gently sliced along the death lines of her right arm, as though passing through nothing more than air. There was no resistance… Hela's divine armor failed to offer even the slightest defense.
In that moment, Hela lost all feeling in her right arm. The next second, her entire right arm detached from her body, falling lifelessly to the ground with a dull thud, raising a cloud of dust.
Before any blood could spurt from the wound, Hela's formidable regeneration kicked in, sealing the injury. Yet, strangely, no matter how much divine power she channeled, her severed arm refused to regrow. It was as if she had never had a right arm to begin with, and more bizarre still, she felt no discomfort.
Her arm had been erased on a conceptual level by the [Mystic Eyes of Death Perception]. No matter what means she used, it would never grow back. Such was the terrifying nature of this SS-level ability.
Stunned, Hela waved her now-empty right shoulder. The brief flicker of disbelief in her eyes was quickly replaced by seething rage.
"You—"
Before Hela could finish her sentence, Zane's Reaper's Scythe swung again, slicing cleanly through her neck. In an instant, a head crowned with thorns flew skyward, propelled by a fountain of blood.
Hela's head, by what seemed like sheer coincidence, landed on Gungnir standing at the center of the arena, blood trickling down the spear's shaft onto the platform.
Even in that moment, disbelief filled Hela's eyes. It was as if she couldn't comprehend her own death. Her powerful vitality sustained her for a full half-minute before the light in her eyes finally dimmed. But even in death, she did not close her eyes.
At the moment of her death, a pulsating gray orb of light burst from her head, soaring through the air toward Zane. As it approached, Zane felt an inexplicable sense of familiarity and comfort.
His instincts didn't sound any warnings, so he made no attempt to avoid it. He stood still, allowing the orb to merge with his body.
The moment the orb of light merged into Zane's body, an immense surge of death laws rushed toward Zane's divine core. The Reaper's Scythe in his hand seemed to be drawn by an invisible force, transforming into a stream of light and merging deep into Zane's soul.
His divine core, revolving rapidly, was bombarded by a torrent of death laws, a flood of power formed from countless death principles.
Instantly, Zane felt as though he was suspended in an endless universe. Countless death laws, like meteors, hurled themselves at him with a crushing force, embodying the power of destruction that reduced all things to silence. Each impact shook Zane's divine core, causing it to shatter and reform as streams of light that fused into his being, becoming part of him.
As these shattered laws melded into Zane's divine core, his mind accelerated, processing at a speed he had never experienced before. He balanced the process of fusion and comprehension, ensuring that the endless fragments of death laws didn't corrupt his core. His full concentration meant he lost all awareness of the outside world.
His final thought before plunging into the sea of death laws was:
"Damn it, I miscalculated…"
And then, he fully immersed himself in the ocean of death laws, grinding down and absorbing the understanding of death gained by both Hela and the previous Death Gods. His comprehension of the concept of death grew at an unprecedented pace. Every second was as valuable as ten days of enlightenment.
Outside, the effect was immediate. After the orb struck Zane, his eyes closed, and he frowned deeply, slowly descending from the air to the arena. A bone throne and death crown materialized out of thin air, supporting Zane's body. There, in full view of the stunned crowd, he sat in the middle of the arena, seemingly unaware of anything around him.
Lorna, realizing that something was wrong with Zane, shot to her feet. A luxurious robe and crown appeared on her, while a dark green aura flickered around her fingers. Every metal object on the spectators trembled and flew from their owners under the force of her powerful magnetism, forming a massive stream of steel in the air.
In the next moment, the metal melted into liquid and encircled Zane, forming a moat of liquid metal.
"Bastis, Little Bone, Rocket, Groot—guard him!" Lorna shouted urgently. Without hesitation, she flew into the liquid metal, standing protectively in front of Zane, eyes wary of the crowd whose gazes had turned dangerous at Zane's sudden transformation.
Upon hearing her command, Bastis's eyes narrowed to slits, and she let out a furious roar. Her fur stood on end as she transformed from a small cat into a colossal primordial beast, towering several dozen meters tall.
She leaped onto the arena, shielding both Zane and Lorna beneath its massive head. Bearing its fangs, it growled menacingly at the spectators, a deadly gleam in its lantern-sized eyes that seemed to say: 'Come closer, and you die.'
At the same time, Little Bone erupted in golden flames, soaring skyward.
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