BANG!

BANG!

Lu Yuan, wielding the Black Iron Throne like a massive iron cudgel, smashed it down with force, again and again.

His broad back muscles rippled, and the giant, blood-red lotus eye on his back seemed to pulse faintly in response.

Nearly a hundred tons of terrifying force surged through the throne into the ground, transmitting through earth and stone.

Countless huge, web-like cracks radiated outwards from the throne's point of impact.

Lu Yuan had effectively overturned the entire summit of the pyramid, shattering it into small fragments.

The towering pyramid itself seemed to be slowly crumbling...

Everyone present was stupefied, their expressions frozen.

The many spectators in the stands, after a brief moment of stunned silence...

It's unknown who started it, but a shrill scream of excitement suddenly pierced the air.

Then, the atmosphere in the venue reignited. Hysterical cheers and shouts merged into an overwhelming tsunami of sound.

The spectators were simply ecstatic.

Originally, seeing someone reach the top, they had believed the final Bloody Battle was over.

They never imagined there would be such a reversal, with a Blood Fighter brutally beating the Spear Holder.

Good Lord, Mosa's specially arranged finale was truly thrilling! The admission to watch this Bloody Battle might have been expensive... but it was totally worth it!

The fervent atmosphere from the stands even caused the Blood Fighters a moment of mental disarray, plunging them into deep self-doubt.

The Feast Eater beating the Spear Holder on the throne—could this really be... just for show?! No... that can't be. But considering the Feast Eater's unbelievable strength, it seemed... not entirely impossible.

「...」

Lu Yuan smashed for a while longer, felt it was about enough, and casually tossed the throne aside.

BOOM!

The Iron Spear Throne, now battered into a large lump of iron, landed heavily on the ground with a dull thud.

"Huh?!"

As Lu Yuan looked down to check the Tyrant King's current state, a slightly surprised expression crossed his face.

The Tyrant King's power was only slightly greater than the Moly Demon's. He was on par with A+-rank but fell short compared to S-rank. In his third-stage ultimate transformation, Lu Yuan could easily overpower him.

What Lu Yuan hadn't expected, however, was that even after his ruthless onslaught—an attack that should have reduced an iron body to paste—the Tyrant King was still alive.

At this point, the completely mangled Tyrant King lay quietly in a large crater.

His entire upper body, including his head, was utterly pulverized, resembling a pile of bloody pulp.

But under the shroud of some blood-red power, his injuries were healing at an incredible speed, visible to the naked eye.

Shattered bones knitted together, ruined muscles reformed...

This unbelievable sight greatly astonished Lu Yuan.

He was suddenly reminded of information regarding the "God of Combat and Hunting" worshipped by Mosa—a deity said to grant believers an unyielding fighting spirit and an indestructible physique.

So this is the Evil God Power of Mosa? No wonder Lin Zhiquin pinned all of Lin Mo's hopes for survival on Mosa's Divine Blood...

Lu Yuan was suddenly in no hurry to act.

He wanted to see just how much the Tyrant King could recover under the influence of this power.

Lu Yuan quietly observed the changes in the Tyrant King.

He watched as horrifying injuries—injuries that would normally require a Modified Human to be completely Reforged—rapidly healed.

This continued until the Tyrant King's upper body had reformed to its original contours. Then... the blood-mist-like mysterious power suddenly vanished.

Exhausted?

Lu Yuan blinked, a guess forming in his mind.

CRACK—

Deep in the huge crater, the Tyrant King's right fingers twitched slightly.

Then, his eyeballs began to roll.

Lu Yuan, intrigued, took two steps back, apparently giving him space to move freely.

RUMBLE—

With the sound of falling earth and stone, the Tyrant King stood up from the crater once again.

PANT—PANT—

His body hunched, he panted heavily, like a man just rescued from drowning.

His eyes were fixed on Lu Yuan, filled with profound shock, disbelief, anger, and venomous resentment.

"You're done," the Tyrant King declared, stretching out a hand and pointing at Lu Yuan.

At this moment, he looked as if he had shrunk by several sizes.

His skin now clung tightly to his bones; he looked gaunt and emaciated.

Does that blood-mist power come at a cost? Does it consume a person's vitality?

Lu Yuan's eyes gleamed, his mind racing.

His interest in Mosa's Evil God Power was thoroughly piqued. As for the Tyrant King's threat? Utterly insignificant. Would you care about a beaten stray dog baring its teeth at you?

"Abalas!..."

The Tyrant King suddenly knelt, face upturned, and rapidly chanted a string of strange, archaic, and difficult-to-pronounce words towards the space above.

It sounded like some sort of ancient language.

Unfortunately, Lu Yuan hadn't specifically studied the history of the Mosa Religion and was completely ignorant of the incantation the Tyrant King was uttering.

As the Tyrant King's raspy syllables emerged one after another, the atmosphere in the vast underground space seemed to grow heavy and quiet.

The noise from the spectators in the surrounding stands quickly subsided. Most of them—ordinary people—began to show expressions of indescribable discomfort.

This feeling soon spread to the Blood Fighters as well.

The atmosphere in the underground space became terrifyingly heavy, as if most of the air had been instantly sucked out, creating the oppressive premonition like the calm before a terrifying thunderstorm.

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