As the old man spoke, he slowly spread his arms.
His white sleeves reached past his knees, gently tracing an arc that concealed his figure below the shoulders.
In an instant, a subtle ripple appeared in the once silent and colorless vast sky.
A drop of deep color seemed to have been dripped into this colorless sky.
In the blink of an eye, this dark shimmering light spread out rapidly in an extremely exaggerated manner.
In just a few seconds, the vast darkness seemed to fill the sky.
From that darkness, layers of magnificent, swirling nebulae emerged.
The pale, crystalline stars, having shed their blackness, hung in the sky, twinkling incessantly.
They tried their best to pierce through the thick, multicolored clouds and cast a bright light onto the earth.
The sky seemed to be immersed in a dreamlike scene, sacred and distant, elegant and mysterious.
"They say I am the creator of this world, the creator of magic."
As soon as he finished speaking, everyone's eyes widened in shock.
The mages surrounding the shattered land stood frozen in place, their mouths agape.
Moreover, almost all the monks around the world jumped up from their seats upon hearing this.
Just to get a clearer view of the white-haired old man's demeanor.
At a single glance, countless mages could sense the extremely strong aura of wisdom emanating from the old man.
The stars that filled the sky allowed countless mages to see through the old man's profound understanding of magic and his exquisite analysis of runes at a glance.
His skills have long surpassed those of ordinary people, reaching an unparalleled peak.
Not to mention those deep and peaceful eyes, which reveal endless mystery.
Supreme, extraordinary, pure.
Even Gwen was captivated by the patterns of stars spread across the sky, unable to look away.
But the next second, the intricate patterns covering the entire sky suddenly began to tremble and become unstable.
Countless patterns began to tremble and sway like bubbles, and the heavy nebula gradually dissipated, becoming light and blurry.
Within minutes, the starry night completely faded, revealing the colorless outline at the bottom of the sky.
Gwen stared at the sky, unable to come to her senses for a long time.
Only when the last trace of color faded away did she feel a slight surprise, as if waking from a dream, and come back to her senses.
But then, an aged voice came from ahead.
"Although you have lost your divinity, your bloodlust is too strong."
Gwen was startled and looked ahead.
But the great mage before them had already vanished.
So Gwen turned around and looked.
But then she saw the old man who called himself a great mage already standing in the air behind her, leisurely walking backward step by step.
She instinctively tried to turn around, but found herself seemingly trapped in a crevice between rocks, unable to move at all.
It was as if they were imprisoned in place by a magic spell cast at some unknown time.
Only at this moment did Gwen realize that the magical patterns that had been swirling around the old man, though seemingly beautiful and profound,
In reality, it was just a smokescreen, a trap to lure her in.
But by the time they realized this, it was too late.
Behind her, only a deep laugh could be heard.
"In terms of strength, I am inferior to you."
"Then allow me to use a little trick."
"Isn't that a bit much?"
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