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An inky black substance enveloped the entire plaza, blotting out even the faintest trace of the midday sun. Not a single ray of light could pierce through the oppressive darkness.
Strangely enough, though there was no light, those within the God of Terror's dominion were still able to see what lay around them.
"No light, but we can still see… Is that thing really the God of Terror? Or just its projection?"
Wang Yu gazed up toward the blackened heavens. There, suspended at the apex of the sky, loomed a vast and twisted shadow. It was emaciated and elongated, its limbs and neck grotesquely short and swollen. Perched atop its unnaturally long neck was a grotesquely disproportionate oval-shaped head, from which thousands of empty, blinking eyes scanned the world below.
Wang Yu released his ripples outward, probing the dark substance that blanketed everything. The feedback surprised him. Though it resembled the warped matter of the void, it bore no true relation to it.
It seemed to be a form of mental energy that had been manifested in reality and was saturated with invasive, predatory fear. That fear burrowed relentlessly into the souls of all caught within its reach, spreading terror like a contagion.
And in turn, the fear birthed by its victims was fed back into the miasma, enriching it. This physicalized mental force—this concept of terror—grew thicker and stronger with every passing second.
Of course, it had no effect on Wang Yu. Nothing that targeted the soul or mind had ever been able to affect him.
"That first wave must've carried the most concentrated burst of terror. The commoners and nobles—they're probably done for. It's pure mental force, not magic, so it's more or less impossible to guard against. No time to worry about that now. I need to find Edward and Charles first."
In mere seconds, Wang Yu formed a plan. He left his cumbersome sniper rifle atop the rooftop, which wouldn't be of any further use, and leapt down.
He had only one goal in mind: to confront the descending God of Terror. So far, the entity hadn't made a further move, but Wang Yu felt a growing sense of unease.
If the ambient concentration of terror kept rising, something disastrous might occur.
"Charles?" Wang Yu landed with a roll, cushioning the impact, and quickly scanned the street—but Charles was nowhere to be seen. He frowned.
The streets were littered with the fallen residents of the capital, all wearing expressions of terror. They were frozen with ghastly looks on their faces, trapped in nightmares, their breaths heavy and labored—so loud that Wang Yu could hear them from meters away thanks to his sharpened senses.
The atmosphere was eerie. Though the God of Terror had descended, the people looked as if they were simply asleep. But Wang Yu knew better.
The faces of the fallen were beginning to twitch. Their teeth clattered against each other, their tremors growing more violent as their fear intensified. When that fear reached a certain threshold, their souls would no longer be able to bear it. To escape the overwhelming terror, their souls would shut down and they would die.
Wang Yu saw no sign of Charles among the fallen. He knew that the demon "One" dwelled within Charles and...
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