In a sky shrouded in dark mist, the Fallen Angel stood like a god high above, emanating an overwhelming and domineering aura that suppressed everything, forbidding even birds to fly.
Opposite the Fallen Angel, Leslie, who had been blown back, struggled to stabilize herself as ice crystals continuously formed under her feet. Her beautiful face was devoid of any color, pale and frail.
However, her eyes were filled with anger and murderous intent.
A kind of madness, not belonging to Leslie, faintly tore through the space around her, exuding a thick aura of malevolence.
This also caused Leslie's fingernails to become sharper and longer, like scimitars gleaming with cold light.
Her straight posture began to bend like a bow, resembling a beast ready to pounce.
The change in Leslie's aura was almost immediately detected by the Grand Elder, but he paid it no mind.
His hands came together in front of him, forming an ancient seal.
