This was the boy's ultimate move—his strongest technique, one he had honed to the absolute limit. Even a tier-8 Awakener wouldn't be able to withstand such a devastating blow. This was his trump card, his final, desperate strike.
Under his slightly nervous gaze, the entire region where Owen had stood was engulfed in a void—silent, lifeless, as if all matter and energy had been wiped clean. The boy held his breath, half-expecting to see nothing left of his opponent.
But then, a sharp crack split the silence, like the shattering of glass.
A strange, radiant light flickered into existence, forming a translucent shield that floated mid-air—mysterious and divine. Cracks spidered across its surface until, with a final crisp snap, it fragmented into countless pieces and disappeared.
And there—amid the emptiness, bathed in dazzling golden light—stood Owen.
Not annihilated.
Not grievously wounded.
He looked… untouched.
