Meanwhile, Blackie was locked in another brutal clash with the Trial Qilin, and this time neither of them was holding anything back. Elemental forces ripped through the air in violent surges, fire clashing with water, wind shrieking as lightning split through it, each collision sending shockwaves across the black lake. The pressure alone was enough to crush a lesser cultivator flat.
Not far away, Ethan floated in midair with his eyes closed, unmoving.
Garm sat nearby beside the remains of the dismantled carcass, crunching lazily through bone and sinew while keeping one curious eye on Ethan. Compared to the apocalyptic fight over the lake, the scene around Ethan felt eerily still.
At that moment, Ethan's awareness had turned completely inward. The outside world might as well not have existed. He did not hear the explosions, did not feel the tremors. His psychic sense flowed through his body like a tide of light, guiding the dense golden energy downward toward his feet.
