Zhuo Yun gently stroked the ashes of the begging spirit and murmured: "Spirit, we can still be together forever! You remain innocent and kind-hearted in my heart." Even Yan Shi didn't know how to comfort Zhuo Yun, so he could only say: "Let's get on the road. There are so many elf brothers waiting for us to save them."
The party of four, with heavy hearts filled with grief, set off towards their next target city.
Four months later, in the Holy Church.
The Pope stood in the Temple of Light, watching his granddaughter floating in the air. A year had passed, and three days ago, the Pope was surprised to find that the angel light around Xuan Yue was finally beginning to fade. He clearly understood that the year-long divine baptism was about to end. His granddaughter had completely transformed, and after this year-long baptism, her future achievements would definitely surpass his own.
