An icy cold wind began to blow across the field causing the grass to turn into ice before shattering and turning into mana for me to absorb into my body before pouring it all into the giant spear that had started to elongate and spin at terrifying speeds.
The Wyvern tried to recall back all the mana it poured into making this throne world, however, when the scene shattered into countless shining white lights, instead of its call going back towards the wyvern, half of it automatically poured into my body.
Cracks began to appear along my skin as the mana surged throughout my mana channels and into the unstable spear that I was forced to enlarge. This was mainly due to my cultivation level being too low, and no matter how much I comprehend the fights of gods, I would not be able to replicate the same level of mana control as someone a whole stage above me in their cultivation.