Even from afar, he was able to see the unknown man's appearance.
Black hair. Black eyes. A golden robe woven with dragon patterns.
He looked ordinary, yet strangely majestic.
But this was not what attracted the War God's attention, much less what made him so fearful.
What he cared about was the vast amounts of essence—that of his victims—pouring into the man's body. More importantly, the result of this process.
At a speed visible to the naked eye, the man's strength soared.
He had long stood at Rank 11.
Now, he advanced even further.
Within moments, his strength had soared to the peak of Rank 11, looking ready to advance even further.
He seemed to face no bottlenecks.
Unfortunately for him, the essence he had absorbed seemed far from enough to supply his advancement.
Thankfully, he didn't have to think for long about where to obtain the rest of it.
The man's indifferent eyes landed on the battlefield. Another giant hand condensed and struck down with all its strength.
