Adam watched the magical artifact streak across the sky like a bolt of judgment, leaving behind a trail of mana so dense and powerful that it was unlike anything he'd ever felt before.
Other than that, the artifact radiated an otherwordly aura that was overbearing, so much so, that the air around it twisted.
Within a few moments, the artifact had traversed the vast distance and, with a resounding boom, landed firmly in Lord White's grip.
"This is the weapon that I helped Syvarin create," said the old man with a reminiscent look in his eyes. "Alas, he never got to wield this splendid artifact."
"This…" Adam was speechless as he laid eyes on the magical artifact.
It was a staff exuding an aura of overwhelming dominance, its midnight-black body seemingly absorbing the very light around it.
At both ends of the staff, dark gold caps gleamed with a tyrannical sheen, as if forged from the molten dusk at the end of the world.
