Far away from the Ruin, inside a room so white it felt unreal, the World Master's smile finally gone.
He sat forward on the pristine sofa with elbows resting on his knees. His eyes locked onto the massive floating monitor before him.
The screen showed Clyde ascending the tower without hesitation, blood and green mist trailing behind him like a path he already conquered.
For the first time since this game began, irritation crept into the World Master's expression.
The poison should have killed him.
That fog was not mere toxin. It was a Demonic power given form, a substance refined to rot flesh, soul, and magic power at the same time.
Even legendary weapons cracked under prolonged exposure. Watching Clyde walk through it with steady and controlled steps felt unacceptable.
His fingers tightened against the armrest.
"That should have killed you," he thought. "Or at least made you kneel."
