With Angel's current store of knowledge, he could neither understand nor decipher this structure. Yet this structure had undeniably brought him gains.
It was a wondrous experience. He was like a sponge absorbing water—clearly unable to comprehend the mysteries of that "water," yet driven by some profound, indescribable instinct to draw certain unfathomable pieces of information into his mind.
The drifting information surging in from every dimension flickered before Angel's eyes.
At that moment, he had no attention to spare for changes in the outside world. He focused wholeheartedly on drawing the frequency of his spiritual awareness closer to that of the Beginning of Mystery. In the end, Angel seemed to merge with that dimension-spanning structure itself. Though it was a structure he could not imagine at all, a subjective outline of it gradually took shape in his mind.
While Angel was immersed in the onslaught of information, the others were being tormented by the wildly rising pull.
When the cracks had spread across thirty percent of the fruit shell, one wizard unconsciously rushed toward it with an entranced expression.
Without any surprise, that wizard became nourishment for the fruit. Not only did it accelerate the spread of the cracks, but it also made the gradually revealed red light even more dazzling.
When the cracks spread to fifty percent, the second, third... and fifth wizards followed one after another, turning into showers of blood.
There were barely any wizards left in the arena, yet the cracks continued to spread.
When the cracks reached seventy percent, another group of wizards lost control and became sacrifices. At this point, fewer than three wizards remained.
When the cracks spread to ninety percent, the remaining three wizards could no longer hold on. Following their instincts, they stepped forward.
This time, however, they did not