In Owen's eyes, the straight, solitary, yet authoritative back of his mate at this moment was no different from a divine manifestation of the Great Beast God, radiating a dazzling aura. No, Rowan was even more powerful than the Great Beasts of legend; at the very least, this power existed authentically and brutally right before his eyes.
As the Stone-Footed Beast collapsed, Rowan staggered slightly, feeling a bit depleted. His head spun; it had been an overexertion after all. Using pheromones for a direct frontal attack like this was no different from gambling with one's own mental strength, but the experiment proved his abilities had returned to their peak state from before he transmigrated. Rowan hadn't weakened due to differentiation in this strange beast world; he no longer needed to worry about being a burden.
