The runes on the surface of the beam of light above the gray pillar peeled away.
They curled like paint on an old wall, then dissolved into motes of light.
The once-steady flow of mana grew sluggish, producing a grinding noise like rusty gears meshing.
Dago narrowed his eyes, his gaze piercing the distorted light and shadows.
On the other seven stone pillars, the figures of those so-called genius wizards also swayed within flickering curtains of light.
The rules of the ranking battle were collapsing.
Some older, more overbearing power was taking control of this space.
Rumble-
The thunderous sound did not strike their eardrums. It exploded directly within their seas of consciousness.
The central dueling platform, that bedrock foundation battered by countless spells, was now cracking apart like a brittle biscuit.
The rubble did not fall into the abyss.
It hovered, supported by an invisible updraft, before crumbling into the most primordial dust.
What erupted from deep underground was not magma.
It was light.
A multicolored torrent of elemental particles, like a volcano that had built up pressure for a thousand years, had finally found an outlet.
Amid this dazzling eruption, a streak of deep purple tore through every other color.
Like a sharp sword, like a solitary peak thrusting from the ground, it pierced the heavens in an instant.
The sky over the entire Fairy Ancient City Ruins turned an eerie purple.
The clouds scattered, and space trembled.
At the heart of that purple beam, a circle of brilliant motes slowly revolved, coalescing into a ring.
These were no ordinary motes of light.
Within each one, a miniature galaxy seemed to be collapsing, countless runes forming, perishing, and rearranging themselves inside it.
The abrupt transformation stunned everyone. Dago stared fixedly at the gathering of brilliant motes forming that