Ethan stayed where he was, lowering his gaze to his hands.

White arcs still danced over his fingertips—so familiar it was practically part of his breathing. But for the first time, he understood it differently.

It wasn't that his power was weak.

It wasn't pure enough.

The reason his lightning hadn't punched through that spatial wall wasn't because Thunder's Power was lacking. It was because the white lightning he'd released still hadn't reached its most refined state.

That realization stilled him for a beat.

Then Ethan drew a slow breath.

He didn't rush to strike again. Instead, he redirected the power inside him, pulling back the lightning he'd been releasing, compressing it bit by bit—pressing, purifying, stripping away the scattered glow.

The white arcs gradually thinned. The messy, drifting light was peeled off layer by layer, until only the densest core remained in his palm.

The air around them started vibrating continuously. A faint hum ran through the warship's deck, like even reinforced steel was struggling to endure such tightly condensed force.

Soon, a massive sphere of energy formed in front of him.

It was made entirely of white lightning. There wasn't a wisp of excess on its edges—every trace of power was locked inside, quiet in a way that felt almost lethal.

Ethan lifted his hand and pushed forward. The sphere left his control and shot straight ahead.

This time, the result was completely different.

When the sphere hit the already cracked dimensional wall, it didn't stall. It didn't get swallowed.

The impact point collapsed inward first—then a piercing, glass-like shatter ripped through the air as an entire section of space fractured at once.

The cracks spread and deepened under the pressure. Then the whole layer of dimensional barrier was blasted into fragments. Huge chunks of shattered space broke apart in midair, only to be erased a heartbeat later by the following lightning.

The passage had been forced open.

And in that same instant, Ethan felt something he'd never felt before—something racing through his limbs and bones.

It wasn't a simple spike in raw energy.

It was deeper than that, like the power he'd already been holding finally showed its true edge after that strike.

The sensation hit hard.

Ethan stood there, chest rising and falling—and then he let out a low laugh. It rose quickly, growing louder, excitement he couldn't quite pin down, much less suppress.

At the same time, the power around him exploded. White lightning covered his entire body again, bleaching the edge of the deck in harsh, pale light.

But just as he was about to surge straight into the Abyssal Corridor, Lily raised a hand and stopped him.

"You really have a death wish," she said, and there wasn't a trace of joking in her voice.

"I told you—your white lightning still isn't pure enough. You can blow open the outer layer right now, sure. That doesn't mean you can pass through safely. The power inside still needs further refinement."

Ethan snapped his head up, shock flashing across his eyes.

He'd just pushed his lightning to the absolute limit he could manage. That strike had shattered a spatial dimensional wall.

And it still wasn't enough?

While he was still reeling, Lily reached in and pulled out a white crystal.

It wasn't large, but it was unbelievably pure, like a thin layer of quiet, flowing light had been sealed inside it. She didn't offer much explanation. She simply flicked her hand and drove the crystal straight into Ethan's body.

The instant it entered him, Ethan's whole body jerked.

A force—icy clean and razor-sharp—spread rapidly through his meridians, like something that had been asleep for ages had just been awakened. It immediately began drawing on the white lightning already inside him, dragging it inward, compressing it deeper.

"This came from Elysion," Lily said flatly.

"It can refine the white lightning inside you without limit. Sit down right now and feel the crystal's power."

Then she turned her head, looking toward the corridor ahead, where death and corrosion churned like a living storm.

"This corridor… leave it to me."

Ethan didn't hesitate anymore.

He pulled all the power he'd been projecting back into himself, then sat down cross-legged.

Even so, that overwhelming thunder aura kept pouring out of him in a steady stream. It formed a continuously expanding energy field around his body, spreading until it blanketed the surrounding heaven and earth.

Gradually, the white lightning around him began to change.

The color faded.

The edges blurred, then disappeared.

After that, the lightning became almost completely transparent—leaving only the occasional distortion of the air and a faint, prickling numbness to prove it was still there.

If you didn't see with your own eyes how it warped the space around him, it would've been almost impossible to track the way that power moved.

Lily glanced at him, and her expression eased—clearly satisfied.

Then she turned and walked deeper into the Abyssal Corridor.

The energy on her body hit a violent peak. Thick sheets of lightning spread out from beneath her feet and surged forward like a flood. Everywhere she passed, the death and corrosion choking the abyss were blown apart on contact.

That darkness—so dense it felt like it could crush the air itself—collapsed layer by layer beneath her thunder, forced back until a path opened forward.

As the road was carved out, part of Emerald Castle's forces began to advance into the corridor as well.

Heavy footsteps mixed with the low vibration of warship components, echoing deeper and deeper within the passage.

Thud.

Thud.

Thud.

The sound carried far, like it was hammering open crack after crack in a land of death.

At the same time, Queen Seraphine rose into the air.

She spread her hands, and sacred Light Force poured down from above. Great waves of golden-white radiance swept along the Abyssal Corridor, scrubbing the lingering darkness away inch by inch.

Lily's extreme lightning handled the blasting and tearing.

Seraphine's Light Force handled the cleansing and suppression.

One after the other, the two forces interwove as they pushed forward. The Abyssal Corridor—something that had made even the strongest hesitate—began to collapse, crumble, and break down until it simply… ceased to exist.

The path was completely opened.

The formation pressed forward without meeting another obstruction.

Not long after, they arrived near Varkharr.

Even from a distance, it looked nothing like the outside world.

It was like a completely independent nation, wrapped in a thick spatial boundary, constantly releasing violent energy fluctuations from within.

They weren't even close yet, and the air was already humming under the pressure. Especially that massive gate at the front—just standing outside it, you could feel a near world-ending might slowly seeping through.

The group stopped before the gate, power gathering in silence.

It was obvious what they intended.

They were about to break the door down together.

But right then, Ethan suddenly rushed in from the rear.

He'd been sitting back there refining his power the whole time. Now that he'd reappeared, the change in him was almost earthshaking.

Most obvious of all were the lightning traces on his body.

The white had vanished completely.

What remained was fully transparent.

If his passage through the air didn't leave behind a clear, tingling numbness, it would've been hard to even notice he was carrying thunder power at all—let alone something this terrifying.

He landed at the front of the group and didn't say a word.

But everyone's eyes had already turned to him.