Chapter 613

The Dark Whale Sea-Riving King felt as if his soul were about to shatter. He dared not touch that grey aura, let alone attempt to neutralize it, because he knew all too well that while it appeared faint, it contained a terrifying power beyond imagination. If it were to erupt, he would likely be annihilated in an instant—not even the gods themselves could save him. The Dark Whale Sea-Riving King felt bitter, yet he dared not show it, his face a mask of conflicted agony. A noble Demon Saint, a powerful figure who had reigned over the Central Plains for years, a being before whom countless creatures bowed—he had been reduced to this: enslaved by a dog. And yet, there was nothing he could do. Resistance was impossible, perhaps for his entire lifetime. Submission was the only way to stay alive.