Ramos never, not even in his most vivid nightmares, could have imagined this.
That Aurek—right beneath his very eyes—had managed to develop and rise to such a terrifying level!
Even Ramos himself, a White-robed Bishop, would never dare to so casually wield the Power of Destruction with his own bare hands.
Just the thought of it made his face sink into grim seriousness.
No one understood better than him how dreadful that force truly was.
He had once experienced it firsthand, and the memory was seared into his soul.
That power was not just dangerous.
It was pure annihilation.
It was the untainted will of Destruction itself, and it did not forgive arrogance.
For a moment, Ramos felt his hatred surge again.
He wanted nothing more than to strike, to exact revenge, to end Aurek with his own hands.
But after a short hesitation, he clenched his jaw.
This was not the time.
He would delay his revenge.
He would wait.