Reduced to nothing

"Cough, cough—"

Dago clutched his chest, coughing as though he meant to hack the heart that had just been pounding so fiercely out through his throat. This, he supposed, was what it felt like to be on his last legs.

He raised his head. His once-handsome face was now as pale as paper, his eyes threaded with crimson veins. He looked like a consumptive who had just crawled out of a grave.

Since mastering [winter's stillness], this was the first time he had ever exhausted his mental power to such an extent.

Three-Domain Fusion sounded like a name that would resound through the ages, and its power was indeed astonishing. But nothing in this world came without a price.

For a wizard at merely the Mid-Second Circle, using it twice in succession was like asking a toddler who had just learned to walk to carry two hundred pounds of rice. Surviving without being crushed was already a stroke of luck.

Dago took several bottles of potion from his Spatial Ring. Not caring how they tasted, he twisted off their caps and gulped them down like cold water.

Once the potions reached his stomach, their effects combined with the recovery provided by [winter's stillness]. The pain in his brain, like a dull knife sawing through flesh, finally eased a little, giving him a moment to catch his breath.

Treading over the ancient Forbidden Ice beneath his feet, he made his way one halting step at a time to the spot where Ignatius had died.

There was nothing left there.

Not only was there no body, but not even a trace of ash remained, as though Ignatius had never existed.

At full strength, Three-Domain Fusion was almost absurdly powerful. It had blasted this arrogant, formidable enemy straight into nothingness.

Dago searched through