The Third-Ring Wizards watching from the sidelines had kept what they believed was a relatively safe distance, yet they were inevitably caught up in the blast.
The sound waves carried the curses and wails of tens of thousands of undead before their deaths, turning into visible gray ripples that frantically scoured every inch of space.
Faces changed abruptly as they retreated at top speed.
The elemental shields around them violently churned the instant they came into contact with the ripples, like snow splashed with boiling water.
Stormy waves rose within their Mental Spaces, as if countless icy hands were tugging at their consciousness, trying to drag it into the abyss.
Those who failed to evade in time had their faces twist beneath the sound waves, blood pouring from all seven orifices as they staggered away.
Claire, who had been holding a spell in readiness to launch a sneak attack on Bone Death Knell, also retreated swiftly.
Only after reaching a completely safe area did Claire finally let out a slight breath of relief, still shaken.
That trembling sensation of hovering at death's edge reminded him of the helplessness he had felt when first facing a Formal Wizard as an apprentice.
Then, as if recalling something, he abruptly raised his head and looked toward the center of the sound wave eruption.
There, the enormous six-pointed snowflake pattern and the four pure-white ice blades had all shattered, leaving only a pale golden Mental Force Field that was still being rapidly compressed and diminished beneath the sonic tsunami.
Dago's Ice and Snow Law seemed somewhat fragile before the undead's overwhelming "violence of numbers."
"Damn..."
Claire's expression instantly turned incomparably grim. He clenched his fists hard, only to slowly loosen them again in unwillingness.
"Is this Maflin's true strength?"
The watching wizards who had