There were those who couldn’t dodge in time; their faces contorted under the sonic waves, blood flowed from all their orifices as they staggered and barely escaped.
Claire, who was originally preparing a spell, ready to sneak attack Skull Mourning Bell Maphalin, also retreated swiftly.
Not until she reached a completely safe area did Claire catch her breath with lingering fear.
Then, as if suddenly remembering something, she abruptly lifted her head to look towards the center of the sonic wave explosion.
The area was shattered into pieces: a huge hexagonal snowflake pattern and four Pure White Ice Blades – all broken, leaving only a pale golden Spiritual Field that was rapidly compressing and shrinking under the sonic tsunami.
Claire’s face turned extremely ugly; she clenched her fists tightly, then unwillingly and gradually loosened them...
"Is this Maphalin’s true strength?"
The spectating wizards were all moved, their eyes filled with shock and horror.
"A genius wizard from the South, specializing in Undead Magic, except for Andriel, no one could surpass Maphalin!
His legacy is too terrifying. The accumulation of Dead Soul’s Servants over generations of Skull Mourning Bells; even though some are lost over time and battles, he still possesses an enormous base – ordinary wizards simply can’t, nor are they qualified to be his opponent..."
"That Second-level Ice Mage was monstrous enough, it’s just unfortunate that he encountered Maphalin..."
A wizard couldn’t help but sigh, "If only he had more time, he might have grown to match, or even surpass Maphalin.
Now he didn’t even leave a name behind, just perished in this battle..."
At the terrifying center of the sonic tsunami, the pale golden spot representing Ronan’s Spiritual Field was now squeezed to nearly invisible, like a flickering candle in a storm, about to be completely extinguished.
Some onlookers felt pity, some disdain, some sneered.
Ronan had previously displayed strength far beyond his level, which was astonishing, but if anyone was to blame, it was his own too dazzling prominence; he encountered an opponent like Skull Mourning Bell Maphalin before fully maturing.
However, just when everyone thought everything was about to end.
A wizard on the edge of the battle suddenly felt a chill.
He touched his cheek, lifted his head in confusion.
Not just him, many spectating wizards suddenly noticed that, out of nowhere, the sky had started to scatter flakes of snow.
Each snowflake displayed eight edges, a complex shape they had never seen, their color fading from deep blue to pure white, exquisitely beautiful.
Delicate snowflakes gently landed on their faces and bodies, an inexplicable icy coldness and bone-chilling sensation penetrated through the Magic Robes and skin barrier, rapidly entering their bodies. It felt as though their blood was freezing, a terrifying and desperate feeling emerging from deep within their souls.
The spectating wizards realized something was wrong, and in shock and doubt, they again frantically retreated.
At this moment, the sonic tsunami filling the sky abruptly ceased, and immediately after, everyone incredulously saw—
An ultimate deep blue quietly blossomed from the center of the battleground.
Below the deep blue, air currents, light, space, and even time, seemed to be frozen.
Countless snowflakes fell from the sky, deep blue ripples surfaced, numerous Ice Crystals spikes grew out of the Void...
In just the blink of an eye.
A vast Thorny Snow Country...had arrived!
Maphalin was also frozen by a terrifying chill, countless dense Ice Crystal spikes trapped him like a cage.
Numerous Resentful Ghosts sealed by Ice Frost, suspended mid-air, motionless, turned into translucent Ice Balls encapsulating twisted human faces.
Under this extreme chill.
A slender and tall figure emerged from the depths of the "Snow Country."
Dark chestnut hair with a hint of blue, enchanting blue-gold eyes, and that pale yet handsome face.
Titanium flowed from Ronan’s body, quickly forming a silver-white splendid long spear in his hands.
The spear tip slowly glided through the Void, making a frictional sound as it brushed the ice.
Ronan, holding the long spear, walked towards Maphalin.
With every step he took, his figure would disappear in the Void, then flicker and appear again.
He rapidly closed in on Maphalin, whose face showed shock and emotion for the first time.
The powerful spiritual power of Intermediate Level 3 Stage nearing Late Level 3 burst forth, quickly melting the chill restraining Maphalin, and the imprisoning Ice Crystal spikes issued a strained "crack..."
Ronan seemed not to see any of this.
He just calmly looked at Maphalin, slowly lifting the Titanium long spear in his hands, the tip pointing directly at Maphalin’s brow, and softly said:
"Let the sound of the Funeral Bell ring once more, Maphalin..."
"As a send-off for yourself!"
Ronan stretched his arm forward, the long spear in his hand transformed into a dazzling silver light.
In the air, disappearing and reappearing multiple times, crossing vast distances of space, like lightning teleporting it suddenly appeared in front of Maphalin, and then...
It brutally pierced through his head!
Seeking base monthly tickets, thank you~