Olini flew toward the blue sun on the horizon, unable to contain his excitement.
Even from this distance, he could sense that it was a powerful energy entirely different from magic. If it could be released gradually, refined, and converted, perhaps it could charge the planet and make it stronger.
It was only a vague hope, but hope was still hope.
However, on his way toward the blue sun, he spotted a very unfamiliar Faltinian standing on the ground and waving at him. The man held a burning little stick between his fingers, and Olini had no idea what it meant.
The blue sun ahead was constantly emitting intense radiation, which was harmful to the body. After giving it some thought, Olini landed, intending to ask this unfamiliar kinsman what he had discovered.
Maybe he had seen how the explosion happened. Maybe he understood this energy phenomenon differently.
All Faltinians were firmly opposed to Dormammu. Even the resistance had become public, and there was no need to hide any subversive activities or actions. There were no traitors among their people.
Dormammu knew these people were always plotting something, but he found it amusing instead.
It was like watching a colony of ants trying to rebel against a god. He gave the Faltinians the chance to resist him.
Over tens of thousands of years, the Faltinians had made dozens of attempts, and not a single one had succeeded. Their plans were thorough, their arrangements meticulous, and they even had plenty of manpower. Every time, victory had seemed within reach.
But the moment Dormammu descended, he merely had to yawn, and the heroic ancestors would be snuffed out like candle flames.
The gap in strength was an insurmountable chasm, one the Faltinians could never cross on their own. They pressed on one