On the light screen, the white light sphere, with a diameter of a kilometer, quietly floated, emanating a gentle and harmless glow.
Jeming stared at it, lost in silence.
Two trillion tons of antimatter.
This number reverberated in his mind repeatedly, each echo carrying heavier implications.
He finally truly understood what it meant to "assist in battling an Eighth Level Wizard."
From another perspective, only possessing such level of power qualifies for participation in an Eighth Level Wizard's battle.
Eighth Level Wizards, laws fixed, immune to modifications by the world.
Their duels surpass conventional witchcraft, touching deeper, more essential layers of rules.
And a "trump card" like this antimatter light sphere is prepared for battles of such levels — intended to break balance, a chip to create advantage.
Jeming took a deep breath, suppressing the astonishment swirling in his heart, and turned to Clark:
"What is the Chaos Secret Sect's trump card?"
