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A crescent moon fang shot out from Evilmoon, expanding until it filled the heavens. It gleamed with an aura of destruction, as though it could cleave apart the fabric of existence itself.
This blade resembled the death god’s scythe, yet its edge was cloaked in shimmering stars, flames, and lightning. Its aura carried the power to devour the heavens and obliterate the world itself.
As the crescent moon fang descended, all the sounds in the surroundings were consumed, leaving an eerie stillness in its wake.
Wherever it passed, all life was drained to nothingness. The very essence of the world seemed to wither beneath its presence.
Even the ancient dragon patriarchs—beings who had witnessed countless epochs—stood in stunned silence. They had never encountered such a bizarre...
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