Another great battle had ended.
An icy wind howled across the ravaged battlefield, giving off mournful sobs.
Bright blood-colored moonlight pierced the thin black fog, draping this deathly silent battlefield in a sheer crimson veil.
On the Evil Eye High Tower Platform, the Di Nian Evil Spirit was still laughing.
He slowly raised his right arm and watched the blood-colored moonlight coiling around his Battle Armor. It was no longer the sickly dark red of the former Crescent Moon, but the bewitching red unique to the Waxing Crescent, moving across the surface like a living thing.
"At last."
His five fingers abruptly closed, crushing a strand of moonlight.
Countless fragments of memory flashed through the Di Nian Evil Spirit's mind.
The Player Race's mockery, oppression, and humiliation-those had undoubtedly been difficult years.
Without subsequently establishing the Evil Spirit Alliance and gaining support from outside resources, he clearly could not have overcome that obstacle.
The struggles of the Crescent Moon Stage had been like an unbearable winter.
But now, a power that had almost become unfamiliar to him drifted through the air.
Spreading his arms, the Di Nian Evil Spirit felt the dense Dark Tide particles in the air. His mood was like a thawing river that had finally welcomed the spring floods.
He drew a deep breath, letting Dark Tide particles fill his chest. Every inch of muscle resonated and trembled beneath the cleansing energy.
The humiliation he had once suppressed was now spreading across his tongue like sweet, poisonous wine.
He had finally tasted the reward for waiting.
The days and nights spent lying low during the Crescent Moon Stage, the shame and anger of every occasion his turtling tactics had been mocked-all were repaid twofold in the radiance of the Waxing Crescent.
He suddenly realized that pain, too,