>>>>THIRD PERSON POV<<<<
Belzemoth no longer looked at Zeref with indifference.
The amusement had disappeared.
So had the arrogance.
The tiny burn on his face had erased every trace of underestimation, and what remained was something far more dangerous.
Intent.
Pure, merciless intent.
The Oracle Leader raised his staff.
Dark mana burst from the gemstone at its tip, swallowing the battlefield in an instant. The black mist no longer drifted lazily across Floor Ninety-Nine. It lunged, twisted, and condensed into countless spells that formed one after another without pause.
Zeref barely had enough time to react.
He threw himself sideways as a lance of darkness ripped through the space his head had occupied. The molten ground behind him vanished, leaving behind a bottomless scar that stretched across the battlefield.
Another spell came before his feet even landed.
A second.
A third.
A fourth.
