Lein leapt from his dream sphere with a graceful motion, landing calmly on the vast emptiness of the universe. His sharp eyes pierced the darkness, fixed on the dimly glowing altar in the distance.
From within the altar, the souls of dark creatures slowly emerged, one by one, like mist rising from an endless abyss.
Their numbers grew to about twenty, neatly lined up like soldiers awaiting orders.
Amid the crowd stood Zkeron, his face brimming with confidence, directing his arm with a commanding gesture.
Observing the scene, Lein offered a faint smile—a smile that seemed more curious than satisfied. He knew the power before him was insignificant compared to his own, yet this time he decided not to obliterate Zkeron outright using his clones.
Instead, there was an undeniable excitement he couldn't hide. He wanted to test the soul-annihilating skill he had acquired during his recent promotion.
