Carlos, who had long been eyeing Owen, now stared at him intently, a serious expression on his face.
A writhing black tentacle emerged from the void behind him, like a towering black pillar exuding a maddening, terrifying aura.
The tentacle surged towards Owen, staining the space around it with a desolate, decaying hue, like a bleak oil painting.
The magical attacks from everyone followed one after another, filling the sky with a myriad of colors.
The countless chaotic mana collisions created utter turmoil in the sky.
Even with Owen's strength, the onslaught of magical attacks gave him a fleeting sense of facing death.
Clearly, Owen's earlier words had truly angered them, and they were now attacking without holding back, using their most lethal moves.
The many veteran figures watching the battle felt a chill run down their spines.
Among them were individuals who had broken through to platinum-tier or even diamond-tier.
