The power of Spatial Shattering

Countless arcs of light and countless lines peeled away from a complete whole. Obscure fluctuations radiated from the process, carrying terrifying power.

What had just "grazed" Dago was only an utterly insignificant wisp. No blood flowed from the edges of the wound, only an expanse of ashen nothingness, as though some indescribable rule had erased that patch of flesh directly from this dimension.

Dago gazed at the distorted region from afar. Even with the mental power of a Second-Ring Wizard, he felt a shudder of dread from deep within his soul.

It was an instinctive fear of higher-dimensional power, the trembling of a lesser being before superior rules.

When Dago lowered his head to examine the Shatter Rune in his hand again, profound emotion rose in his eyes—a complex mixture of fear and fervor.

"This is... the power of Spatial Shattering!"

Only an intact spatial structure shattering in an instant could produce such terrifying might.

This was no explosion at the level of elemental particles, but a collapse at the level of rules.

He became acutely aware of how extraordinary the mysterious rune in his hand was. It was a key—a bloodstained key to the Hall of Truth he had dreamed of.

The next second, an idea so audacious it bordered on madness arose from the depths of his heart.

The thought sent his heart pounding like a war drum, the blood throughout his body surging with excitement.

It was the overwhelming exhilaration of someone who had searched a dark labyrinth for ages, only to glimpse dawn just as he was about to collapse from exhaustion.

For this moment, Dago had spent three full years without seeing daylight in the Ring of Law's cold, damp Ascetic Attic.

For three years, over a thousand days and nights, he had done one