Black and white were covering the sky. A city of a million population, Henricqal appeared like a fragile china that could be destroyed in an instant as the two forces fought.
If the black hand came down and destroyed the Tower of Dusk, Henricqal would no longer be able to maintain the holy light defense on the outer perimeter and the black mist would overrun the city.
Pure white flames were burning on Lin Sheng's body as holy light poured out from him. Now, the things that truly limited him was not the quality of the holy power but his ability to direct it. At first, he thought his physique was strong enough to support an endless conversion burst of holy power. But now, he realized that this level of output was too slow. He started to feel his power was being held back.
The giant black hand was pressing down like the body of a mountain, forcing him back down toward the Tower of Dusk.