Amidst the pure white radiance, Sargeras's flesh continued to rupture and dissipate, his body disintegrating inch by inch. The scent of death gathered heavily in his heart.
He knew all too well—if this continued, Owen's strike would indeed annihilate him.
Without hesitation, he directed his formidable mind power, weaving it like countless threads to pull his scattered blood and flesh back toward his original position. Slowly, they coalesced into a blood-red phantom of his form.
The agony of reconstructing his body was unbearable, drawing an anguished wail from Sargeras that sent visible shockwaves rippling through the void.
But Owen had already locked onto his aura. As Sargeras's flesh began to gather, black orbs of condensed energy surged toward him.
Boom!
