Before long, the swamp rapidly caved in, revealing an enormous pit. Inside was a complete wreck, utterly devoid of any sign of life.
In the silent swamp, it was as though a localized magnitude-ten earthquake had occurred, reducing the area to utter ruin.
Not long after, Dole slowly emerged from the middle of the swamp. He held a head in his hand—the head of an old man, its eyes wide open, unwilling to close even in death.
This was the gift Dole had prepared for their meeting.
He had been wreaking havoc for a full six days, yet no one had paid him any attention. That was highly abnormal. Dole wondered whether he had been too low-key, to the point that no one had even noticed him yet.
He looked around. This was Light Empire territory, not far from the Glory Empire. For the Shaman God Family and the Light Holy See to have no collusion whatsoever when an assassin camp could be established here with an eighth-level expert stationed within it—he did not believe that for a second.
Just as the thought crossed his mind, he looked up and saw a Wizard Tower fully twenty-eight stories tall approaching from the distance, charging fiercely toward the swamp. It was incredibly fast, directly breaking the sound barrier and flying toward him at nearly one kilometer per second—several times faster than sound.
The fluctuations from the battle here had been far too powerful. It would have been impossible not to draw attention.
The Wizard Tower flew above the swamp and slowly came to a stop. A powerful force swept toward Dole.
Yet when that force reached Dole, it was as though it had shot into another space and vanished.
At that moment, a group of people in white wizard robes appeared atop