Under Cyril's control, the silver-white, flashing, frenzied whirlwind of sharp blades gradually surged forward, filling both sides of the passage with violent silver light and leaving not a single gap.
In the span of a few breaths, the "Storm of Light" swept through the entire passage.
Whatever it touched, whether vengeful ghosts or strange creatures hiding in the darkness, shattered in an instant, sliced into pieces no larger than a palm.
Only after it had ravaged the entire passage did Cyril let the "Storm of Light" gradually dissipate.
At the same time, the "Dawn Armor" covering his body, refined from pure dawn, broke apart into flecks of light and faded away.
In the passage around him, illuminated by "Illumination," fragments of monster tissue—some transparent, some bright red—were scattered across the floor. The passage, already quiet, had grown even more deathly still. It seemed there were no living creatures left.
Cyril glanced around before withdrawing his gaze.
"It looks like someone cleared this place out not long ago. What's left are all ghostly creatures good at hiding, and most of them aren't strong."
"It was probably the people at that Beyonder gathering Maric attended. What a pity. In the end, none of them made it out."
Muttering under his breath, he pulled the Screaming Painting, rolled into a stick, from his pocket and flicked it open. Then, using the "Object Manipulation" trick, he made it hover in midair.
As soon as it appeared, the distorted figure inside the Painting Scroll bowed to him.
"Great Master, your loyal servant is always waiting to serve you.
"May I ask if there is anything you need me to do right now?"
Cyril looked at the Painting Scroll before him, which had neither hands nor feet, and asked after a moment's thought,
"Can you help