Greece, the Peloponnese Peninsula.
In the brightly lit classical town, Long Ling wandered the winding cobblestone paths, the wind tousling her ink-dyed hair, while her lithe red dress billowed like water ripples in the wind, revealing her fair and delicate calves beneath, and her feet in a pair of black high heels, gently tapping against the ground.
A long time had passed since the battle at Sacred Mountain.
Yet her consciousness was still somewhat hazy.
Because that man, before he died, used the Levatin Sword as a medium to leave a kingdom known as Candle Daytime's Hell within her.
How could a human body contain a world?
Of course, that was impossible.
But Long Ling could.
That power constantly seared her.
Stifling her growth.
She had to constantly bear the excruciating pain of burning.
Her memory often fragmented.
Occasionally, when she became lucid, her eyes would reveal a hint of a cold, mocking smile, truly fitting for her capable younger brother.
