Within the dark, complicated tunnel, countless thorns were dancing in the air. They crisscrossed each other, stabbing and jabbing in an extremely complicated manner, creating holes in the metallic wall. Zero weaves through the dense vines of these dangerous thorns like a fairy, moving nimbly and evasively. He was more like a black mist, a mist that had been dispersed. No matter how dense the thorns were, they would not be able to catch his shadow.

Gounabel's eyes were already ...