Unlike the red fog before, these blemishes seemed like ulcers on the bone, which did not budge under the scouring silver light, and even seemed inclined to integrate with it.
"Huh—so this is what Mr. Laine meant in his warning left inside the puppet... Never use it unless you reach the [Legendary] realm, not because it cannot be used, but because for all mortal things, 'Faith' is 'poisonous.'"
The hoarse voice emanated, or rather, it was not a sound produced by the body, but some kind of mental fluctuation. Ande opened his eyes, looked at the narrow space, a flicker of brutality flashed by, but he quickly suppressed it.
He had already kept himself as far from faith as possible, just like those fears and awe originating from the Bronze Humanity, he had not absorbed them from the beginning but stored them instead.
Even now, they were merely used by Ande to build this tiny illusory space, anchored upon the vast expanse of the Spirit Realm, serving as his temporary domain.
