**Again!**

Dago's long hair, which had been whipping wildly in the surging energy, now drooped like a banner stripped of its soul.

His burly body staggered, each retreating step stamping deep cracks into the ground.

The brutality and coldness deep in his eyes, seemingly inherited from an Ancient Old One, rapidly receded like a tide beneath the cleansing force of the rule of "aging" embodied by that gray halo.

In their place came a deathly calm—a sign that reason had reclaimed command, the instinct of a wizard calculating his chances of survival in a desperate situation.

As he retreated, Dago raised his cracked hand again and made an extraordinarily ancient, cryptic horizontal sweep through the air.

Humm—

The void trembled. Countless currents of mysterious power, so dense they seemed impossible to disperse, did not weaken with him. Instead, they surged forth wildly like a final rally before death.

Three silently flowing [Despair Death Rivers], their black waters shimmering with every color, materialized in the void.

These were [Despair Death Rivers], manifestations of rules.

The three rivers converged in midair, merging into one. Like waters of time flowing from a legendary kingdom of death that had long since fallen, they rushed with a silent roar toward the mountainlike black-robed figure of the Revival Society's Dark Chief.

"Double Domain Resonance?!"

Even from far away, the wizards watching from the sidelines felt their souls shudder and cried out in disbelief.

Such profound manipulation of rules belonged to a realm ordinary Third-Ring Wizards could never reach.

At that moment, even the gaze beneath the black robe, which had remained as silent as an abyss, seemed to waver ever so slightly.

But it was nothing more than a flicker.

The Dark Chief slowly raised his hands and spread them apart, his movement as simple as pushing