Darkness surged like a tide, ravaging downward.
Layer upon layer of ripples transformed into waves, flowing across the sky, continuously sweeping toward that brilliant star.
The tides within the vortex were rising, rushing toward the present world. It was as if the firmament was collapsing, crashing toward the earth, making all things appear as ants, immersing everything in destruction.
Yet those waves repeatedly crashed against an invisible wall, returning futilely.
The Heavenly Furnace hung high between the sea and sky.
The cold light blossomed from the staff he held, illuminating the blood-soaked darkness, where floating incomplete corpses were suspended in the air.
Even on his face, neck, the back of his hand, and across his chest, were cracks.
Blood trickled in scarlet rivulets, dripping, silently staining the sea crimson.
His white clothes were dyed with blood, his face expressionless.
