He forced his exhausted body to stand up slowly.
Every movement was carefully controlled, neither too weak nor revealing the true state of his near-depleted spiritual power.
"Micro-structure Adaptation... for the last time..."
A silver light weakly surged from his body, constructing an illusory yet imposing giant figure at the edge of the Consciousness Space.
Twisted syllables slithered around the projection like live snakes, exuding an unsettling aura of reality erosion.
"Who else wants to try?"
Ron’s voice was magnified through the projection, carrying the bloodthirsty intimidation from just having slain four of its kin.
The voice echoed through the dimensional cracks, reverberating within the Dimensional Angles.
Faint echoes of advanced ravings continued to linger.
The remaining twisted syllables, like invisible venomous snakes, continually reminded the hounds of the danger present.
The discussion among the three hounds behind the crack grew more intense.
Their outlines began to fluctuate violently, clearly showing signs of severe internal disagreement.
Two of the smaller hounds were evidently inclined to retreat immediately.
Their forms became increasingly blurry, ready at any moment to vanish into the depths of the river of time.
But the leader—an obviously larger presence—seemed unwilling to give up so easily.
It prowled back and forth at the edge of the crack, continually sending out exploratory spiritual waves.
Ron could sense the meaning of these waves:
The leader sought to confirm his true state.
"At a time like this, one should..."
He maintained the imposing stance of the projection while calmly analyzing the situation in his mind.
Though Time Hounds are terrifying, their thought patterns still follow the basic logic of predators.
When faced with an uncertain threat, they instinctively seek the safest course of action.
The key now was to make them believe the cost of further attack far outweighed the benefits.
"Iai’leth..."
Ron quietly intoned a fragment of the ravings.
In the perception of the Time Hounds, whispers were more frightening than roars.
Because it hinted that the caster still retained ample power, ready at any moment to unleash a stronger attack.
Finally, after several minutes of "discussion," the three hounds made a decision.
The two smaller ones began to retreat first, their figures dissolving into smoke and vanishing into the depths of the time-space cracks.
But before the leader left, it did something that made Ron’s heart sink.
The massive body began to emit a special "pheromone."
This pheromone contained detailed battle records:
The enemy’s general strength, the attack methods used, the casualties caused...
More importantly, it carried a clear signal for help.
"Report to... Dog King... need... higher-level... hunting squad..."
Fragmentary concepts intermittently transmitted through the time-space crack made Ron’s face grow even more grim.
After releasing the pheromone, the lead hound also swiftly vanished into the void.
The last time-space crack slowly healed, and the Consciousness Space returned to peace.
"Next time, it might be the Dog King coming..."
Ron thought with a bitter smile, as the figure of the projection began to slowly dissipate.
The Dog King, a terrifying existence Uther had once mentioned.
It was not an ordinary Time Hound but the ruler of the entire species, possessing the terrifying ability to create Dimensional Angles.
Even Great Wizard Level beings must carefully consider whether it is worth engaging in a battle with the Dog King.
And with his current strength...
"I must at least break through to Dark Sun Level to have the strength for a fight, but that will take a long time..."
He shook his head, temporarily suppressing this concern to the back of his mind.
The most important thing now was to recover his state and prepare for the greater threats that might come.
......
As the smoke of battle gradually dissipated, Ron began to carefully check his condition.
The physical injuries were completely healed under the Silver Pocket Watch’s Time Reset ability, leaving not even the slightest scratch.
But the damage to the Consciousness Space could not be repaired through external means.
Seven cracks, varying in depth, spread like a web across the Spiritual Domain.
Five of them were relatively minor, and could heal naturally through the recovery of spiritual power in about a week.
But the other two cracks reached into the core level of his consciousness structure, with remnants of the Time Hound’s stinger’s corrosion at the edges.
"These two will take at least half a month to fully recover..."
Ron carefully observed the wounds, secretly feeling fortunate.
Without the additional protection provided by the solid structure of the "Wisdom Triangle," this level of damage could have plunged his consciousness into permanent chaos.
More worrisome was the hunting mark on his left scapula.
Although precisely removed by the Time Reset, the intense confrontation during the battle had once again exposed him to the hounds’ perception range.
New pheromone traces had already permeated deep into his consciousness.
Although not as evident as the previous mark, they could still be tracked by higher-level Time Hounds.
"The removal of traces requires deeper processing..."
He noted this important matter in his mind.
A method must be found to completely block time traces; otherwise, similar attacks would continue.
"The cost is indeed quite high... but it’s far better than death."
The Paradox Dice, which had played a crucial role earlier, lay quietly in the corner of the Consciousness Space, but its surface had undergone a disturbing change.
The numbers on its six sides, originally ever-changing, now all turned into blood-red "∞" symbols.
The infinite symbols wriggled like living things, each pulse accompanied by a faint but clear ominous aura.