Over the imperial capital of Kyrik, a black tower loomed in the sky, emanating a cold, merciless aura.
It was like the chill of winter, piercing and biting, with white snowflakes frozen in the air, drifting down continuously.
"Interesting, it's been a long time since I've seen such a reckless junior," Taylor said with a cold smile as he stood under the shadow of the Dark Tower, watching Leslie charge toward him.
The black tattoos on his aged face squirmed, gathering at his feet and transforming into a thick, inky black swamp. Then, black spikes shot upward, colliding with the frigid current emanating from the Dark Tower, producing a resounding clash.
Even though Taylor could see that the Dark Tower was extraordinary and mysterious, as a grandmaster-tier mage, he wielded the power of the world itself.
He transformed the environment into a swamp, matching the power of the Dark Tower.
