Under the astonished gazes of the spectators, Komer had already pulled out the seven-string harp. Mihailovich's expression was complex, while Newman's face was full of joy. As Komer's fingers pressed on the harp, the dark black and blue-grey cloud patterns on the harp quickly began to fluctuate, creating an illusion of flowing clouds in motion, and the dull sound of yin thunder and a sharp whistling of wind were faintly directed.
"Lord, if I'm not mistaken, is that the legendary Wind and Thunder Magic Harp?"
Newman, excited and nervous, continuously licked his somewhat dry lips, his breathing became rapid as his eyes fiercely fixed on the increasingly fast fluctuating dual-colored cloud patterns on the harp, which gradually blended together, presenting a vague mist-like state—a prelude to the imminent explosive release of magic power infused into the harp.
