Zhang Beixing walked slowly forward, looking down at the once aloof Pope.
"Do you think that with this insignificant power you can resist me?" His voice was full of mockery.
"It's truly laughable."
Before he finished speaking, a terrifying power suddenly erupted.
Michael felt an indescribable pressure envelop him instantly.
His bones emitted a cracking sound under the heavy burden, blood slowly flowing from all seven orifices.
"No... impossible..." Michael struggled to stand, only to find he couldn't move a single finger.
Zhang Beixing looked down at him, a trace of pity flashing in his eyes.
"You could have been one of my subjects, basking in supreme glory." He sighed lightly, his tone filled with regret.
"But unfortunately, you chose the wrong path."
Before he finished speaking, Zhang Beixing raised his hand, fingers slightly spread.
An invisible force suddenly enveloped Michael.
In the next moment, the once high and mighty Pope scattered like dust.
