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Under the guardian's dumbfounded eyes, the deacon's body and soul were both completely shredded into bits and pieces of raw flesh and energy, followed by the implosion of the illusory monk that sent all the initiates crashing into each other.
Perhaps until the last moment of his life, the deacon didn't understand just what had gone wrong.
With his face pale from both exhaustion and shock, the white-haired guardian quickly made his way over to the third princess to make sure she was alright.
Looking at the disturbingly satisfied smile on her face, though, the words of concern were suddenly stuck in his throat.
The purple-haired girl waved her hand to take back the defensive artifact that she had activated, and gave him a nod. "You did well handling him. As expected of one of our empire's best guardians."
Faced with her praise, the white-haired man didn't feel happy at all. "P-Princess, w-what do we do now?"
