Harvest and Storm

Edwin's spiritual world gradually calmed.

He withdrew from that vast sea of stars, his consciousness returning to the abandoned church on Backlund's outskirts.

The middle-aged man in white robes had already vanished without a trace.

Edwin stretched out a hand and made a grasping motion.

A transparent mass appeared in his hand.

This was part of the middle-aged man's body in his mythical creature form, a product condensed from Beyonder characteristics.

But that was not his greatest gain.

He spread open his other hand. Floating above his palm was a "thing" beyond description.

It was a pure black that devoured all light, yet it seemed not to exist within this dimension at all, its edges constantly flickering between reality and illusion.

Sefirah—

This was the fundamental power the middle-aged man had used at the very end to escape Edwin's spiritual world.

A power that transcended the Sequence pathways, one even more primordial.

Edwin could sense an immensely powerful and pure spiritual imprint attached to that pitch-black mass.

It had even faintly begun to display independent vitality.

To thoroughly analyze this portion of the Sefirah and make it his own, he first had to carefully strip away the spiritual imprint belonging to its former owner.

It would be a long and delicate task, requiring a great deal of time and effort.

Edwin put away his spoils of war. His gaze pierced through the church walls toward Backlund.

There, the spiritual tide formed from the workers' fury and hope had already surged to its peak.

With no more interference from the mastermind behind the scenes, the flames of this transformation had finally shed their last restraints.

As Backlund's strike movement entered its second week, its scale and influence reached unprecedented heights.

It was no longer confined to the factories of the East