Yet this strike did indeed inflict an unbearable wound upon The Master of Hunting, who had already walked to the very end of His path, blowing apart a section of His body amid His most agonized roar; "Divine Bone," gleaming like blood‑jade, scattered everywhere, still wreathed in searing vapors as it struck the ground.
"His shell is collapsing! The hour of His fall is at hand!"
Granny Bach issued her warning, shouting loudly:
"All warriors below the level of the Golden One, withdraw from the combat circle at once. The curse power at the moment of a Divine Spirit's fall will harm you!"
Lord Paryen strode forward, Holy Spear in hand, as the others drew back; the humming blood‑halo radiating from Eternal Silence caused any foul-blood constructs that neared to collapse of their own accord. The watcher of a thousand years lifted his head, gazing upon The Master of Hunting, now at His end, while that savage single eye glared back at him in wrath.
