Qingyi could no longer hold back, allowing his draconic form to expand to its maximum size—dozens of kilometers from snout to tail tip.
The distant stars seemed to shrink in the face of the vastness of that body, and the void itself bent around his black scales.
His powerful claws clamped down on either side of the asteroid, and the celestial body's own gravity bent before the dragon's colossal mass, the surrounding space warping like fabric crumpled by invisible hands.
Its colossal jaw opened directly over the fortress, and the bandit leader shuddered from head to toe.
Was that… death?
He stood at the pinnacle of the realm of cosmic dominion, and he could sense, with absolute clarity, that in terms of cultivation level, that dragon was weaker than he was.
Yet he could not move a single muscle.
His lungs emptied of air, even though he was inside the artificial atmosphere enveloping the fortress, and his entire body stiffened, frozen in the face of that overwhelming presence.
