Her voice was very similar to Yulia's, only more mature and languid.
But unlike the Yulia Aiwass remembered, the Defiant Flame Butterfly was much more aggressive—
She extended her right hand forward, and the swirling flames transformed into a giant hand, lifting Drost's upper body and, as simply as wax adhering to a candle, dragged it back to stick to his lower half.
"Does it hurt, Mr. Scum?"
Uttering sweet words, the Defiant Flame Butterfly laughed beautifully like a girl, with her left hand held behind her back.
The next moment, as the deep red flames turned into intense white, Drost's charred body started to heal rapidly.
That sensation, like being immersed in warm spring water, instantly dissolved Drost's miserable screams. His brows unfurled, loosening the fists clenched so tight that blood spilled, and his bones made a creaking, acidic noise.
She, who shared memories with Yulia, was in a sense another Yulia.
