Unlike the toxic and somewhat pitiful behavior of the Sun Church, the saintesses of the Moon Cult moved with flawless teamwork. Meylin led them through the labyrinthine corridors of the Demon King's Castle, her silver and golden eyes occasionally glowing with violet moonforce.
At times, it seemed as though the Sacred Saintess of the Three Moons was peering into the flow of time itself, always choosing the best path forward.
For nearly three days, they had flown tirelessly, engaging in battles against relentless waves of Replicas. Each encounter was met with coordinated precision, and their unity was a testament to their rigorous training and teamwork. Yet now, they stood before what appeared to be a dead end—a massive mirror wall reflecting their weary faces back at them, with no path forward.
The saintesses exchanged puzzled glances. This was uncharted territory. Meylin had always found the right path, yet now they were confronted with an impasse.
