Ronan instinctively followed, even abandoning the solid rock floating island beneath him, sprinting swiftly atop the magma.
Until the stream of light completely melted into the rolling heatwave in the air, Ronan stopped at a protruding black stone cliff, carefully bent down, extending his hands to cradle the last bit of crystalline fragments in his palms as if they were treasures.
The umbrella-like crystalline fragments melted in Ronan's palms like snow, erasing the last trace of Molli'er in this world.
A surge of inexplicable sadness rose in Ronan's heart, the fusion of the Phoenix's blood in his veins burning hot, making him feel like shedding tears.
Then Ronan raised his head, and surprisingly, just a few steps away, he saw an object that seemed to be cast in gold, slantedly embedded in the black stone cliff, with fiery red rune patterns flowing across it from time to time, quietly watching him like eyes.
"Is this... the Golden Gate?!"
