Lightning Rain

If conciliation failed, then he would ask the ancestor's avatar to intervene and destroy him.

With that thought, he slowly stepped out of the shadows and came to the rear of the convoy. He seemed completely transparent as he blended into the convoy.

Babel Tower.

Dole stood alone atop the Wizard Tower, his gaze distant.

Most of his spiritual power was invested in the Storm Domain. As the Storm Domain grew, so did his spiritual power; his meditation technique was also continuously being perfected and adjusted.

If one looked closely, around the Eye of the Storm above Dole's head, wisps of white vapor had appeared. He was trying to incorporate the power of ice into it.

Yet storms themselves were formed by differences in atmospheric pressure between low- and high-pressure zones. Temperatures that were too low would upset that balance, so he had to blend ice into it with great care.

Moreover, incorporating ice had a drawback: while it would increase the storm's wind force and chilling effect, it would weaken the power of lightning. Dole was now considering whether to add a low-temperature effect and strengthen the ice aspect.

Just then, he flicked a finger.

The road-building team had reached the middle stretch. Soldiers stood guard by the river, while the Magic Beasts within the distant North Plains Mountain Range watched them like tigers eyeing their prey every day. Even with people protecting them, everyone remained highly vigilant.

At that moment, a bolt of lightning suddenly flashed across the clear sky. A lightning strike as thick as a man's arm crashed down upon the bank of the North Plains River.

When the flash faded, a smoking figure rolled across the ground, charred black all over and plainly beyond saving.

Seeing that figure and sensing its aura, the surrounding