Even though Apollo focused his attention on Rhys and Rhea, he couldn't help but notice the beams of light. They were simply too glaring to miss.
After he killed the dragon made of wind, there was no longer any pressure bearing down on him. However, the sheer volume and threat of the beams of light had their own set of pressure.
Yet, Apollo wasn't afraid. In fact, he felt like he could easily deal with this precarious situation.
...because he had a strange feeling.
It was almost like an instinct, but not quite.
It felt like a reflex, but that wasn't right.
Apollo felt like he could resist the feeling and try his own method. But for some reason, he trusted it.
Rhys and Rhea noticed the beams of light. The fearful expression left Rhea's face. She clicked her tongue as though the situation was always under control.
"Of course Oddryl has to wait until the last second."
Rhys sighed and shook his head.
