With a single glance, the two recognized the identity of one of the combatants.
It was not because of his appearance, but an instinctive terror of apex predators that arose from the depths of their souls.
"It's Bone Death Knell Maflin."
One of them spoke hoarsely, as if an invisible hand had gripped his throat, his pupils contracting sharply into pinpoints.
In this cruel Wizarding World, a title often represented mountains of corpses and seas of blood.
"This man's strength..."
A Third-Ring Wizard gritted his teeth and said uneasily, "It's even more terrifying than the rumors. He's simply not someone an ordinary Mid Third Circle wizard could contend with."
That oppressive sensation was like solid blocks of lead, weighing heavily upon their Mental Force Fields.
After their shock, the two grew even more curious.
"Just who could fight Maflin to such a standstill?"
"Could it be one of the top figures from the first tier?"
They continued drawing closer, gradually making out the countless frosts within that undead Domain, colder even than ghosts. The icy wind cut across their faces, yet did nothing to diminish their desire to investigate.
Ice magic!
The one fighting Bone Death Knell Maflin was a wizard specializing in ice magic!
Which ice mage in the south possessed such formidable strength?
Within the limits of their sparse knowledge, ice wizards usually represented control and sluggishness, not such violent destruction.
At one moment, a pure-white ice blade like the fangs of an ancient frost dragon tore through layer after layer of ghostly barriers. Amid endless frost and snow, a tall, upright figure appeared, wreathed in ice and snow and clad in silver armor.
The elemental particles around him were arranged with neat, imposing precision, like a well-trained army.
The instant they clearly saw Maflin's opponent and sensed