The degree of integration with the "Otherworld" is indeed very high, and by utilizing this, one can freely adjust their ranking to a certain extent, or guide so changes.
However, the range for ranking adjustnt is still limited, at most barely reaching Demigod status.
After confirming that the "Spine Lock" sent by the Witch had a good appetite for this place, Fu Qian didn’t forget to seize the last opportunity to record the changes of Assassin Brother.
The initial tearing was undoubtedly brought by oneself; the "Otherworld" might be noble, but it is, after all, similar to a dead thing.
The pressure from the fully ford Tyrant was ultimately not easy to bear.
It was not a regular item shattering; no matter how much damage is inside, it doesn’t matter to the "Otherworld".
What cracked was its own essence, and it struggled to maintain itself.
Unfortunately, the inclusion of the Spine Lock finally made this instinctive effort completely fail, the cracks could no longer be stopped.
The first to bear the brunt was the victim Zhao Ran, akin to a character in a comic strip, directly ripped to pieces along with his carrier.
"Impossible... I am Immortal..."
And with the last bit of linguistic capability, he even delivered a classic line.
But without a reply, he was already thoroughly shattered.
anwhile, in response, the Spine Lock ca alive.
The edge bone spurs softened again, even quickly stretched into long tendrils.
White as jade yet veined with blood streaks, they strenuously stretched towards the surroundings, swaying in the Void, each pulsation seed to slice open a rift.
For Fu Qian, it’s easy to confirm that they are devouring the existential essence of the Otherworld, with quite a voracious appetite.
It is a kind of eternal greed, showing no signs of stopping.
Pontiff’s reminder proved right; if feeding it with one’s flesh and blood, a long Blood Bar is far from enough, most likely the strength of the freshly replenished Tyrant is torn apart again.
So why did I say "again"?
At a certain point, Fu Qian fell into contemplation, recalling the scene before the Tyrant’s fall and a certain lawbreaker who never revealed himself.
Historically, after the Tyrant’s fall, indeed he was dismbered, and Dark Moon was involved at that ti.
...
The level of integration is also graded.
Fu Qian did not dwell in the past nor disturb the Spine Lock’s appetite.
While standing aside waiting silently, leveraging Zhao Ran Brother’s last ripple, comparing it with his own feelings, he continued to draw conclusions.
The "Otherworld" is dying; naturally, he cannot be entirely unaffected while being in it.
But overall, the degree is quite light; Fu Qian is confident that even if lowered to a Demigod like the Assassin, he would not feel too uncomfortable.
And compared to the final state in the task at the ti, along with Mr. Feng Yunhong, seemingly clear three-level scales could be seen.
Descending from Assassin Brother, the degree of integration with the "Otherworld" can be said to progressively decrease.
The forr was evidently the most thorough, completely lded together.
While he had so Affinity simultaneously, maintaining so independence, hence could leave at the ti, but Zhao Ran could not.
Last was Mr. Feng Sr., although his understanding was average, he fortunately also had poor gathering ability.
Over the years, he never found the secret the Assassin Brother refused to disclose, resulting in always using this position as a Tranquilizer.
And although the ambergris solution is straightforward and brutal with huge drawbacks, it still retains a possibility to exit, even the limit is not far.
He himself operated both plans; in comparison, it indeed arouses deep thought on how Zhao Ran Brother went one step further.
Currently, it seems sowhat related to the House of Graffiti.
The other party likely hid so core information, then used the remaining traces to weave a story for himself.
Dark yet childish thought, but it sowhat reflects a certain spirit of rebellion.
It’s a pity that the imagined "Otherworld", seed destined to beco an empty illusion, like flowers in the mirror and moon reflected on the water.
At a certain mont, Fu Qian lifted his head, gazing at the gradually breaking illusion, layers upon layers, and the deep mist seemingly sublimated from it.
The elongated tendrils extended from the Spine Lock had already spread into more convoluted shapes, reflecting in every corner of the Furnace.
As for the original joint segnt, it did not have exaggerated mutation or inflation, but suspended in the air under the support of tendrils, ink-like Darkness surged forth.
Indeed, the sun hadn’t even risen, yet seed it fell back down again.
At a certain mont, Fu Qian reached out, gripping a wispy tendril of black — the black wispy tendril also gripped him.
While an icy blue moon illuminated his face.
...
He did not flinch, nor utter a sound.
Looking up at the familiar dark moon, Fu Qian could distinctly feel clearer than ever, the next mont the hand raised higher.
The Darkness had long spread across the sky, enveloping the surroundings, making this action seem akin to holding up the Void.
But only he knew that the strength of the recoil was clearer, even at a mont having a smooth tactile sensation.
Following it, a trail of ink gradually appeared on the surface of the Dark Moon, as if drawn closer by the Abandonnt King’s pull... finally descending from the sky.
Coral-shaped long wings danced, a familiar face scrutinized from above.
"Welco, there was a little hearing issue earlier."
Because the Knight could not hear the holy teachings, the Pope directly descended to guide on site.
Such honor, how can one not be grateful?
Indeed, far more than just the ergence of a Dark Moon, who else could it be descending from the sky but the Witch?
And seemingly she recovered well, except for the wings on her back, everything else returned to normal.
Observing this scene, Fu Qian deeply felt welco while pointing to his ear to explain.
"No problem."
The Witch shook her head, her gaze always on him, and finally descended slowly to land.
"At least stronger."
Even not a perfunctory courtesy, the next mont pointing at Fu Qian, she indeed provided a reason, the expressionless face instantly wore a familiar smile.
...
Indeed, Pontiff’s complints are always straightforward.
Such praise, Fu Qian calmly accepted, not feeling it inappropriate at all.
As for the Spine Lock after being fed did not help solve his problem, rather assisted the Dark Moon descending the world, he was not too surprised.
Inspiration lost could be called a rare case, the Witch happened to have the right redy in hand, and could conveniently pass it to him, how many coincidences does that require?
It’s not about miraculous right-solution, but coming over for a diagnosis this way has a much greater probability.
Of course, the pressure this reverse traversal brought to the Witch is likely far greater than what going over there entails for him.
"I can’t stay long."
Sure enough, the next mont, the Witch had already said directly, and finally turned to scan the surroundings.
"The current situation can be said to be very coincidental, I never expected to achieve this level, the food you found is very special."
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