Just when the lure formation teetered on the brink of collapse, runes flickering and spectral chains unraveling under the Ghost King's wild onslaught, and the next moment…
HUMMM…
A low, dreadful vibration pulsed through the secret realm, shaking even the ragged mountains on the horizon. From above the basin, the swirling charcoal mist parted, revealing an enormous shadow descending as though space itself had bent to its will.
A figure emerged, shrouded in drifting abyssal mist so thick it felt almost solid.
Though not towering in size, his mere presence seemed to distort the cracked air around him. Ripples of abyssal force spread outward, bending and warping even the lightning that forked across the sky.
His features were hidden mainly beneath a mantle of living black mist, but glimpses revealed an inhumanly pale face, faintly marked with runic markings that seemed to flow like living ink.
