Wrapped in the dust and smoke, Mo Ling heard a roar like a raging tempest.
It was the voice of another of his kind, a sponge creature.
"God!"
The voice was calling out to Mo Ling, declaring its wish to him.
But unlike the petrified rock from before, this voice held no respect whatsoever.
"God! I want a truly exhilarating battle! I want an enemy stronger than me!"
The voice cried out with abandon, its deafening roar wrapped in boundless hostility that surged toward Mo Ling like a tidal wave.
'So this is where all that hostility was coming from.'
The hostility that had torn Mo Ling's body apart originated from this very creature of his kind.
Moreover, this hostility also contained the "wish" it sought to make.
As Mo Ling slowly processed it all, he finally understood.
...
「In the distant past.」
In a volcanic plain, a sponge creature of extraordinary talent was born.
Like Mo Ling, it was embroiled in conflict from the moment of its birth.
