The Goddess of Misfortune wasted no words, handing over the Power of Origin to Lear and then leaving directly.
Although he had obtained the most crucial thing from the Undead Plane, there was still much to deal with.
The aftermath of the fragmentation of the Undead Plane could not be settled in just a few days.
After the other party departed, Lear's gaze sharpened as he slowly extended his right hand, and his five fingers suddenly clenched.
Crack~ The void ahead seemed to be struck by a heavy hammer, shattering directly.
An endless aura of the undead surged out from within, like releasing water from a reservoir.
As that aura swept over Lear, he felt a chilling sensation in his very soul.
"Sovereign..."
The ethereal voice unique to the Flesh Butcher penetrated through the space-time rift.
"What about the Ghost God?"
"Blocked outside the city, unable to enter for the time being..."
Upon hearing this, Lear extended his hand to indicate the Power of Origin.
