Ian's Choice

The runes on the great door flashed.

Ian's gaze sharpened, and he temporarily suppressed the pity and curiosity in his heart. His first priority was to find Newt and uncover the truth. Taking a deep breath, he raised his wand again, preparing to cast a large-scale, nonlethal restraining spell to temporarily subdue these three ancient spirits driven mad by pain before deciding what to do next.

However, just as his magic began to gather—

"Thoom..."

An incomparably dull tremor, as though it had risen from the depths of the earth itself, carrying boundless age and majesty, suddenly surged up from beneath their feet and instantly swept through the entire deep prison!

The sandstorm spirit, the swamp worm, and even the black sludge that continually created illusions all froze at that moment, their attacks abruptly ceasing. Their chaotic, violent auras seemed to have been pinned down by an invisible giant hand, instantly withdrawing. Their massive bodies even began to tremble faintly, filled with a terror far greater than anything they had shown when facing Ian...

Even Ian felt his heart jolt at the sudden vibration. An indescribably heavy pressure appeared out of nowhere, shrouding the area.

He spun around sharply, his gaze as sharp as a blade as he fixed it on the enormous door.

The tremor... seemed to have come from behind it.

Had the "important figure" mentioned by that blind man... awakened?

That dull tremor from the depths of the earth was like the beating of some ancient war drum. It not only made the three ancient spirits stiffen and tremble in fear, but also put Ian on high alert. The presence beyond the door had merely shown the slightest sign of waking, yet it already possessed enough majesty for Ian to sense it!

"What's going on?"

Yet this