The sudden event frightened the powerhouses and senior authorities of the Doom Race, who fell to their knees, desperately begging for mercy.

Wyot showed no compassion. Wielding the Chaos Honlarne Sword with incredible speed, his strikes swept through the battlefield, decapitating his enemies.

The senior authorities of the Doom Race, the Lords of fifty-three universes, and about eighty Great Elders perished. Their headless corpses exploded, their golden bodies disintegrating.

Snow swirled into fog as the remains of the dead scattered like ash. The Lords and Heavenly Paths of the Doom Plane, lined up on the plaza, held their breaths in terror.

Witnessing this massacre, Thea shivered. "He actually killed them all. It’s not right."

"It is right," James said, looking at Thea. "I won."

"That's not the point." Thea rolled her eyes. "He killed all these living beings and left not one trusted lieutenant. The Doom Race..."

James interrupted, "They say Wyot is a fool, but he isn’t. He just