It opened its foul mouth—jaws widening with a sickening crack as the air itself began to tremble. Mana rushed into its mouth like a whirlpool, condensing at a single point, igniting into a massive sphere of blinding light.
I didn't need anyone to tell me what was about to happen.
It was death. That light was death. Condensed, supercharged, hyper-focused destruction.
And it was aimed directly at us.
My breath caught in my throat. It wasn't fear—not the kind you feel when you're startled or nervous. No, this was primal. A deep, bone-chilling dread that made your soul want to flee your body.
I—someone who had willingly killed himself in a previous life—was terrified of dying.
Beads of sweat formed instantly across my entire body, like I'd been dunked in ice water. My limbs locked up. My heart stuttered. The hair on my arms stood like tiny soldiers facing a god they could never hope to defeat.
And then—
Snap.
A simple, casual flick of fingers from behind.
