Even if she wanted to spread her wings and fly, it was as if she was treading in place. As she flew at high speed, the water also swiftly flowed. When she stopped moving, the water slowed to a re trickle. The entire world beca a hazy, imperceptible prison. Any attack quickly vanished into the water, leaving no trace behind. She could never touch the boundaries, nor could she ever clearly perceive her own position.
...
It could only be like this, the girl thought to herself. She no longer tried to break free from this chaos but instead floated quietly and raised her palm.
As she moved, the bright blue in her eyes grew increasingly icy, and without her notice, delicate frost appeared around her, gradually spreading.
"Ding—ling—ding—ling—"
The sound of ice splitting began to spread, extending continuously until after more than ten seconds, the flowing light particles in the entire space halted, becoming frozen ice crystals.
"Crack." A slight crack appeared, followed by the collapse of the ice crystals in the entire space, falling onto the black marble floor and turning into snow-white powder.
Standing once more upon the earth, Tilan found she was rely five ters away from Feruceline, who was hovering in mid-air. Her three pairs of wings were bright and resplendent, with a faint golden glow flowing, two of the wings bent to protect Feruceline in the middle.
The ice crystal powder on the ground gradually dissipated as Feruceline unfolded her wings again and looked sowhat surprised at Hexia.
"This is the Witch's authority." She recognized that this wasn't an ability a Songstress should have.
"But the Witch's authority also cos from the fragnts of the Crown. You are becoming increasingly surprising." She seed to reconsider whether to force Hexia to stay in this place.
...
Finally, she shook her head, "I still can't let you leave. After all, you are too special."
After speaking, she beca serious once again, raising the golden staff in her hand. But this ti, Tilan didn't give her the chance. Almost the mont she spoke, Tilan dashed out, and after a few sword twists, Feruceline's staff slipped, breaking into several clear sections.
When Hexia prepared to engage Feruceline, the latter, despite being weaponless, was extraordinarily agile. Like swimming and dancing, she moved lightly in the air, avoiding the girl's sword light and trajectory.
Her opponent also had authority, and it seed to target her 'flowing' ability uniquely. Tilan quickly realized this.
No wonder she claid to serve as the Saintess of Sifnelian. It seems she truly inherited part of Sifnelian's authority.
"If this is all, you cannot defeat , Tilan." Feruceline's voice remained gentle.
After once again dodging the girl's silver blade sword arc, she leapt, her wings flapping, her figure like a white flying bird soaring to the do.
Without the staff, Feruceline spread her arms, singing hymns, as a warm golden sun slowly appeared at her chest. With the ergence of this sun, the space turned once more into flowing liquid, everything swallowed within the chaos.
In response, while Feruceline hadn't fully grasped control, Tilan leapt upward, her blade morphing into a blooming silver lotus, thrusting towards the beautiful angel in the air.
"Do not approach." A peculiar voice crossed realms, and then four vortices surfaced in the space. Four winged priestesses appeared, each holding a golden staff, guarding Feruceline and constructing layers of golden barriers, blocking the thrusting silver blade.
Like shattered glass, these barriers fractured layer by layer under the sword's light. But just as Tilan was about to take another step forward, the vortex-like water flow spun, trapping her within.
Three seconds later, tiny cracks appeared in the water flow, and then the entire vortex's water turned into large chunks of solidified ice crystals, dispersing.
Every ti it happens this way, Tilan felt a wave of helplessness and discomfort. These flowing barriers and obstacles existed, and without using her authority to neutralize and counteract, she couldn't move swiftly.
After breaking through the obstruction of the four priestesses, she shattered the hazy water barriers and finally saw the six-winged angel behind the scenes again.
"You're late, Tilan."
Before Feruceline, the small sun had vanished, and a blue water ball with flowing brilliance floated before her. As Tilan appeared, she lifted this water ball. Its internal light flow flickered like billions of stars, until it rose above her head. Then the water ball spun, creating a vortex of torn space and ti.
"Sifnelian's Sigh"
In an instant, the water ball burst, and pure torrents like a celestial river poured out, engulfing the girl's vision and everything.
All space and ti disappeared in an instant; she lost all perception, unable even to accomplish spatial rupture and movent.
It was over...
...
...
...
As if centuries had passed, when Tilan once again opened her eyes, she found herself still lying on the floor of the prayer hall. Besides her, there was only the fiery-haired Saintess still praying before the image.
Feruceline slowly rose, her snow-white classical dress sweeping the floor as she stepped gracefully to stand before Tilan.
"What was I just now?" The girl clutched her forehead, unsure of what had just happened, as if it were all a dream.
"Everything that happened was real." Feruceline spoke kindly, then helped the girl up, carefully seating her on a nearby bench.
"Was I just now...?" The girl rembered her mind was a complete blank in the end.
"Just now, you died once." Feruceline watched her sit down, then turned again, coming to stand under the grand painting.
This was an image of Sifnelian. The Prival Angel in the painting wore a classical dress similar to Feruceline's, with six wings, as though residing in the ocean, surrounded by wave patterns.
Reviews
All reviews (0)