Breaking Through the Defense

It was the rain...

Although his injuries from the battle at Empress Persephone's mausoleum hadn't fully healed, Proust was not one to be easily defeated by such an attack. The issue lay in the strange rain.

"Heh..."

Proust slowly withdrew his gaze, letting out a soft laugh. Death energy, an aura of death, emanated from his body, and he gently raised his hand.

"Buzz!"

An invisible vortex of power gathered above Proust, and all the falling potions were dispersed by the swirling force.

President Georgi stared at Proust, his expression heavy with concern. "That person is very strong. Protect Fang Heng!"

The high-ranking members of the undead council cautiously spread out, continuing to deal with the mutated disaster creatures pouring out from the Nether River. However, most of their attention was focused on Proust.

"Who are you?"