Under the illumination of the Secret Source, Bologue was no longer that powerless mortal, a mere First Stage Condenser. Now he had been through many battles and stood at the edge between the Negative Power User and the Defender.
The Throat of the Abyss couldn't catch up with Bologue. Mammon and Beelzebub could only stand at the edge of the storm and gaze longingly. The Ethereal Realm evaporated into endless darkness, attempting to swallow the glow of the Secret Source, yet they could never step an inch into it.
Everyone could only watch, silently observing.
Bologue's figure became increasingly blurred, his shadow narrower and narrower, until the light swallowed everything, until the storm of the Secret Source roared, and thousands of snowflakes tore at the body of the Throat of the Abyss, leaving a string of scarlet wounds over it.
