Above Bogart's head, a massive Magic Circle appeared.
Light shot out from within the circle, annihilating the Wraiths crawling out of the Space Magic Circles. Seeing Bogart remaining silent, Ethan opened his mouth again:
"...Wraiths, heed my summons, become my loyal servants, never to betray..."
The Wraiths from the Space Magic Circles, which had been momentarily subdued, once again roared with fervor.
They were like hounds finding their master, ready to traverse mountains, valleys, and even through fire and brimstone to reach Ethan's side.
Hearing the thunderous roars, a chill ran down Bogart's spine as he loudly proclaimed, "Stop it now! The final step is to find the Grip of the Underworld – the staff of the God of Wraith!"
"The Grip of the Underworld?" Ethan's expression shifted, intrigued. It sounded like a divine artifact.
"Where is it?" Ethan pressed further.
