Xiaochen stood before a colossal, jagged rock formation, taller than three men, that protruded from the Abyss wall. He raised the black sword. The air around him shimmered, distorting. He focused his will, channelling the entirety of his Hell Core's energy into the blade.
He swung.
It wasn't a physical strike. It was a tear. A void-rending s***h of pure darkness ripped from the sword, expanding into a gaping maw of blackness that swallowed the rock formation whole. There was no explosion, no dust, no sound. The rock simply vanished, consumed utterly, leaving behind only a smooth, unsettling emptiness in the Abyss wall.
Xiaochen stood, the sword humming in his hand, his breathing deep and even. He felt no fatigue, only the familiar, invigorating rush of energy from the consumed rock's es
