The Evil God's expression twisted with fury.
Dark miasma began gathering around him, swirling into his wounds, knitting flesh back together.
"He's trying to recover!" Sun Lihua shouted. "Don't let him!"
The sect masters charged.
But before they could close the distance, an overwhelming aura descended upon them. It was like the sky itself had collapsed. Their bodies slammed into the ground, pressed flat by an invisible force.
Even Zhao Long's massive dragon form crashed down, his claws digging trenches in the earth as he struggled to rise.
"How dare you weaklings touch me," the Evil God roared.
The dark miasma continued flowing into his body. His wounds sealed. His charred skin regenerated. In seconds, he looked as though he had never been injured at all.
But he wasn't done.
Below, Dante crushed another demon's skull - and then it dissolved.
The creature's body broke apart into dark miasma and streamed upward, flowing toward the Evil God.
He looked around him in confusion.
