Chapter 494: Coiled
Dasha Pang’s strength constantly grew. It never stagnated, he was always improving in some ways even if it did not seem like it. His dietary habits increased his mana by the day. His knowledge of sorcery increased as he studied.
Dasha understood one thing about himself: his offence was FAR greater than his defence. Far, far greater. With Eyða, his attack damage went over forty-thousand.
These supposed gods of judgement were mighty Class 5 monsters more powerful than the Scylla he faced. Dasha was hoping to incinerate them completely with Final Draw: Black Cards, an evolution of an already mighty technique. His hopes were dashed and he was forced to switch to another strategy.
’I could use that but that would put me on low performance. I’ll be down to Foundation Establishment Early or Middle Stage and this place...’ His eyes flicked left and right. ’...this Territory lets that foolish god summon and heal his monsters as he pleases. My death would be swift.’
The six monsters were still healing. Leg muscle tendons growing rapidly with layers of hippo flesh returning as it was. Dasha’s Qi was at an all time low. Tu Nu Breathing kept him afloat. In and out, in and out...
Oh?
Ah, right. Yes, perhaps that would work.
A new breathing style. If he could do Tu Na Breathing, then why not do another? Dasha Pang had no teacher and nobody to imitate and follow. His gains in Cultivation were through legend, books, and his own predictions.
Dasha Pang dropped down, crossed his legs, and spread his arms. "I speak the names of the hands who built the kingdom. The hands who bled, who toiled, who reached for eternity. Black Despair!"
One minute. He required one minute. Black tendrils that rose from the floor and chained the Ammits down like dogs. Frankly, to call them anything more would be an insult. This was not the true goddess Ammit, revered and feared as a demoness and the personification of divine retribution. These were monsters that took on her shape, nothing more.
Dasha’s hands rested upon his knees, palms upturned. The battlefield around him was loud and agitating.. The six Ammits thrashed, growling, their monstrous bodies twisting as the black tendrils of the Dark Sorcerer kept them bound.