He has been reincarnated through countless worlds, adorned with billions of mythological terms!

Yun Nian stood behind her, clutching the hem of her clothes, and peeked out from behind her arm to look at Pei Yuan.

"Mother--"

"fine."

Wen Ruotang's voice was soft but steady, "Mom's here."

Pei Yuan's right hand gathered strength again.

The bone armor grew from the elbow joint downwards, becoming thicker, denser, and brighter than before. Gray light condensed at the fingertips, forming a ball of light the size of a fist.

He aimed the ball of light at Wen Ruotang and pushed it out.

The ball of light flew out as fast as a bullet, but stopped three inches away from Wen Ruotang.

It wasn't blocked, it was frozen in place—like someone had pressed the pause button.

The sphere of light hovered in the air, with gray light flowing across its surface, but it couldn't be pushed in an inch.

Wen Ruotang stared at the ball of light for two seconds, then blinked.

The sphere of light shattered.

It wasn't an explosion; it shattered into powder. Gray powder drifted down from the sky, landing on the ground and on the light blue pajamas.

Pei Yuan's pupils contracted.

He looked down at his right hand—the bone armor was still there, the spiritual power was still there, but he couldn't feel that hand anymore.

It's not numbness, it's disappearance, a complete disappearance from perception, like that part of the body being erased from the world.

For the first time, his heart rate changed, soaring from 65 beats per minute to 120 beats per minute.

It wasn't out of fear, but because his body was telling him that the woman in front of him was someone he couldn't handle.

The ascending parent body, the ultimate form of the virus, the end of evolution.

Her ability is not to fight, but to devour—to devour energy, matter, and everything.

The longer he stood in front of her, the faster he disappeared.

Pei Yuan took a step back.

He began to regain feeling in his right hand, gray bone nails grew back from his fingertips, and spiritual energy re-condensed in his palm.

He looked up at Wen Ruotang—she was still standing at the door, wearing that light blue nightgown, her hair loose, her expression as calm as a stagnant pool.

Yun Nian clutched the hem of her clothes, peeked out from behind her arm, and stared at him with her golden eyes.

Pei Yuan did not attack again.

He pulled his right hand back and let it hang at his side. The bony nail receded from his fingertips to his wrist, from his wrist to his elbow, and finally his entire arm returned to its normal color.

He put his hands in his pockets, stood there, and looked at Wen Ruotang.

His heart rate dropped from 120 to 100, from 100 to 80, and finally stabilized at 75.

"you're good."

He said in a flat voice, "But did you think I wasn't prepared?"

He took a bead out of his pocket.

It is dark red, about the size of a thumb, with cracks on the surface, through which a dark red light shines, like lava flowing beneath the stone.

The bead bounced in his palm, each bounce distorting the surrounding air as if something was trying to squeeze out.

Pei Yuan looked down at the bead for two seconds, then pressed it into his chest.

The bead sank into the skin without drawing blood or leaving a wound, like a stone sinking into water.

His chest lit up, a dark red light shining through his skin, as if a fire was burning inside his chest cavity.

Then he changed.

His height increased from 1.9 meters to 2.2 meters, his shoulders broadened by a whole circle, and bone armor burst out from all over his body. It was no longer the gray keratin layer he had before, but a dark red shell that looked like solidified magma.

His fingers transformed into sharp claws, each thirty centimeters long, their edges glowing red in the air.

His face was covered by a layer of armor, revealing only his two eyes—not the cold, deep eyes of before, but red, like two flames compressed to their extreme.

His heart stopped beating—not because he died, but because he was no longer needed.

The blood is replaced by a more efficient fluid that makes a buzzing sound as it flows through the blood vessels, like high-voltage power lines transmitting electricity.

Yun Nian gripped Wen Ruotang's clothes tightly.

She sensed it—the person in front of her was no longer human, but some kind of weapon compressed to its limit.

Pei Yuan raised his right hand, his sharp claws aimed at Wen Ruotang.

A dark red light appeared at the fingertips; it wasn't spiritual power, but something more primal and violent than spiritual power.

That point of light was expanding, growing from the size of a pea to the size of a fist, and from the size of a fist to the size of a washbasin.

He pushed the ball of light out—not a sphere, but a pillar.

A dark red beam of light, as thick as a truck, shot out from his palm, moving so fast that the air seemed to be burning and the temperature so high that the walls on both sides of the corridor were melting.

Wen Ruotang raised her hand.

Spread your fingers and point your palm at the beam of light.

Golden light burst forth from her palm and collided with the beam of light.

The entire building shook the moment the two beams of light collided.

The ceiling collapsed, the floor shattered, the walls were knocked down by the shockwave, the steel bars were torn apart, and the concrete was crushed into powder.

The doorplate A12 flew off the wall and was burned to ashes by the high temperature in mid-air.

Yun Nian was protected behind Wen Ruotang, and golden light surged from her body, enveloping her and her mother.

She felt the light protecting her, and also protecting her mother—her mother's body was absorbing the energy of the light pillar, but not fast enough; the light pillar was still pushing forward, inch by inch, like a dull knife cutting through flesh.

Pei Yuan took another step forward.

The beam of light became thicker and twice as bright.

His body was burning—not a metaphor, it was really burning.

The bone armor began to melt from the edges, and dark red liquid dripped from its body, falling to the ground and burning holes in it.

But his eyes were still shining, a blinding red, as red as two iron balls just taken out of the furnace.

Three years.

His voice, hoarse as sandpaper grinding iron, came from deep in his throat: "I spent three years forging this 'Heart of the Demon God'."

"A disposable item; it's useless once used."

"But it can give me the power of a demon for thirty seconds."

"People in your world may not understand what the power of a demon god is, but you'll find out soon enough."

He took another step forward, "even if it's just for thirty seconds."

Wen Ruotang's body began to give out.

The golden light was fading, and her face changed from white to gray, and from gray to blue.

She was desperately absorbing energy, but the rate at which she absorbed it could not keep up with the speed at which the beam of light was advancing.

The tip of the beam of light was only one meter, half a meter, and thirty centimeters away from her.

Pei Yuan's hand was already raised to its highest point, its sharp claws aimed at Wen Ruotang's head.

"Okay, stop now."

A man's voice came from behind.

Pei Yuan's movements stopped—not by his own will, but by being stopped.

He stopped working on the Demon God's Heart, which he had spent three years crafting.

He couldn't turn his neck, but he could see: a person was standing in the corridor behind him, very thin, with completely white hair, deep wrinkles on his face, and wearing a dirty white coat.

Yun Tianheng.