The few people casually brushed aside the rampant turbulence around, and with indifferent expressions, slowly walked towards the casting point of the previous spell.
At this moment, in the blurry and twisted area of the void within their view, the ravaging aftermath was abruptly sliced through, followed by a staggering figure emerging.
A subtle fluctuation crossed their eyes, as if they found it somewhat unbelievable that the person could survive, but they soon returned to indifference.
At this moment, Ronan.
All four butterfly wings shattered, with long deep-purple hair disheveled and sticking to his temples, dampened by thin sweat.
He still maintained his state of magic transformation, but the originally magnificent and beautiful star map on his void body had shattered, leaving mottled traces of obliteration everywhere.
