Between heaven and earth, finally, absolute silence prevailed.
He won.
With the body of a Fifth Level Wizard, he had reversed fate and slain a Sixth Level Wizard in perfect condition.
Watching that gray-white mist thoroughly annihilated and dispersed, Jeming's tense mind abruptly snapped.
A violent weakness, like a tsunami, swept through his body; he could no longer stand, his legs gave way, and he collapsed heavily onto the cold, shattered ground.
The world spun before his eyes, the scene in his vision blurred, and in his ears remained only his heavy, broken bellows-like breathing.
Deep within his soul came not just the simple pain, but a more terrifying, more fundamental "sense of loss" and "sense of tearing."
It was as if a large piece of the foundation of his existence had been forcibly torn away, and the remaining part was riddled with cracks, ready to completely collapse at any moment.
