>>>>THIRD PERSON POV<<<<
The battlefield trembled beneath an endless tide of black mana.
Belzemoth stood at its center, his robes whipping violently as corruption poured from every direction toward his staff. The calm precision that had dominated his battle against Zeref had vanished. His breathing had grown uneven, his grip around the staff tightened until the wood groaned, and the crimson glow beneath his hood burned brighter with every passing second.
Oreo watched him for a moment before tilting his head.
"You know... you're starting to remind me of Villion."
Belzemoth's eyes narrowed.
"He had the same look on his face near the end. He kept throwing corruption at me because he thought more power would solve the problem. It didn't work out very well for him."
The Oracle Leader answered with action rather than words.
Thousands of black lances materialized across the sky before crashing down like a storm.
Oreo didn't move.
