Undead Skyfall was feeling infinitely confident after stepping out of the prison because, even though his current state was extremely weak compared to his peak, he couldn't help but feel an unprecedented sense of freedom.
He slowly clenched his enormous skeletal hand.
'Crack!'
The surrounding space shattered beneath his fingers, and Undead Skyfall's four pairs of ghostly flames burned with even more confidence.
Although he had recovered less than one percent of his true power, that one percent was still enough to crush almost any existence in the Middle Plains.
After all, his current state was only temporary. Once he escaped the Middle Plains and recovered his true strength, he would once again become the existence that had once shaken the Upper Plains.
While mulling over his deal with Destin Saint, his thoughts couldn't help but drift toward the sacrificial ritual, and then his four pairs of eyes narrowed as he remembered the intruder.
'That blasphemous ant!'
