Henry’s gaze locked onto the Core Formation expert a hundred feet away—now a named foe. His body was spent, drained of strength to continue fighting. Ophir, locked in his struggle to contain the exploding tribulation artifact, couldn’t spare even a glance his way.
If this thug Chima truly obeyed Charles’ orders, Henry—who’d barely clawed his way out of danger—would be thrown back into the jaws of death. He’d underestimated human greed. Overestimated Ophir’s intimidating presence.
As Charles’ agonized howl faded, Chima’s eyes burned anew with naked hunger.
*"Kid, ever heard of the ancient body cultivators?"* Lawrence’s voice sliced through Henry’s thoughts like a sudden winter gust.
Ancient body cultivators?
Henry had devoured countless manuscripts—of course he knew. In the distant pas
