The battle was far from over.
Boom.
Thunder descended from the clear sky, piercing through the crack in the dome and striking down right in front of Anna.
Almost by instinct, she leaped to her feet, gripping her sword once more in an instant.
She scanned her surroundings—everything was silent, empty, not a trace of the Demon King could be seen.
Outside the drawing room, the noise gradually grew louder.
Sounds of fighting, shouting, the clashing of weapons, interspersed with the heavy panting of a young girl.
That voice definitely did not belong to Lydia.
Anna exchanged a glance with Ophelia; if Ophelia had enough leeway to come to the drawing room and assist Anna, then Lydia and those other girls… they must be safe for now.
Bang.
The wooden doors of the drawing room were smashed to pieces.
A minotaur tumbled to the ground amidst smoke and splinters; before it could even get up, a silver-white streak descended from above.
A knight’s sword pierced its thick chest, blood splattering as the blade was pulled free.
It howled in agony, shaking its two horns atop its skull as if begging for mercy, but a boot clad in Iron Greaves stomped down hard on its chest.
A flash of cold light, and a bull’s head tumbled to the ground.
It was Jessica.
Alone, sword in hand, she had fought her way here.
She looked up and swept her gaze over Anna, but was struck in the waist by a massive hammer from behind.
Her Board Armor instantly crumpled inward, and she was sent flying sideways, crashing into the ornately decorated wall and embedding into it.
Her head defiantly raised for a moment, then slowly bowed.
Clang.
The sword in her hand fell to the floor.
“Ophelia, go check on her!”
Just as the minotaur tried to move forward for the kill, Anna’s sword blocked its path.
“Moo.”
Perhaps drawn by those fiery red eyes, this young bull was bold.
It charged at Anna, horns raised, facing her blade head-on.
Anna sidestepped the charge, then swung her sword behind—striking it right in the crevice of its rear.
A flash of sword light burst from the blade’s edge, exploding in the minotaur’s flesh and splitting the unlucky creature clean in two.
Turning amidst the explosion of blood mist, Anna’s gaze was cold as the moon, sweeping over the monsters gathering before the drawing room.
Whether it was skeleton soldiers, goblins, minotaurs, or even vampires—not a single monster dared set foot in that space.
Anna advanced on them step by step.
At first, they turned their heads, trying to retreat, only to find the narrow, cramped corridor behind packed tight with their own comrades, so crowded that there was nowhere to go.
Anna clearly saw the monster in the front row begin to stagger, its breathing heavy.
When she approached, that minotaur’s knees buckled and it knelt before her.
“Your Majesty…”
It muttered, and Anna heard it clearly.
That gurgling “Your Majesty” was like a stone dropped into the deep pool of Anna’s heart, sending splashes flying, stirring up the mud below.
The water in Anna’s chest was murky.
Half mud, half sand, all mixed together, weighing on her so heavily it was nearly suffocating.
Yet not a trace of it showed on Anna’s face; she remained cold, her gaze swiftly sweeping over the monsters that dared not advance, and with a swift swing, she took the kneeling minotaur’s head.
“Gurgling nonsense, what’s it saying?”
A flicker of killing intent flashed in Anna’s eyes.
To her, the monsters before her were fated to die here.
Not out of hatred, nor justice, but because… Anna always felt there was a secret that had to be kept.
She turned her wrist, thrust her sword forward, the heel of her short leather boots striking a rhythmic beat upon the marble tiles.
That crisp footfall was like a death knell, and the monsters shrank back, frozen by terror or awe, wanting to flee but unable to move their stiff legs.
“Your Majesty… Your Majesty…”
Anna did not reply, only slowly raising the holy sword in her hand.
Blue-violet magical runes crawled up the blade, dazzling even in the sunlight.
Anna’s sword tip slanted to the ground; she didn’t even swing it, but just a flick of the sword sent the monsters in the front row scrambling backward.
Because of the crowded space and trampling, screams of pain erupted at the back of the group, and their previously tidy formation immediately fell into chaos.
“Sister!”
Lydia’s cry rang out inopportunely from behind the monsters.
They snapped out of their fear as if hounds catching a whiff of blood.
None dared look at Anna again; in unison, they turned, gleaming blades pointed toward Lydia.
“Moo—”
The leader, a Four-Horned Bull, bellowed, raising its battle-axe and charging wildly at Lydia.
“Lydia, watch out!”
Anna had no time for hesitation.
Her heart tightened, and with a sweep of the holy sword, silver-white sword light flashed—four bull heads tumbled to the floor.
Yet the monsters did not fight back; ignoring Anna, they surged toward Lydia.
Anna gave chase, cutting through the monsters like a reaper among ripe grain.
Her sword had just taken a minotaur’s head when it was time to pry open a skeleton soldier’s chest armor; no sooner had she pulled her blade from between the bones than she had to stand before a vampire, slicing through the Fireball it conjured and following up by cleaving its head apart.
Endless.
Anna’s heart grew increasingly anxious.
Lydia’s small figure was almost swallowed up by the broad backs of the minotaurs.
The sounds of battle still had not ceased; Lydia’s cries could still be heard now and then, so for now, Anna was slightly relieved.
She had to move faster.
Anna drew a deep breath, pushing her magic power to the limit.
Magic surged from her palms like a tide into the holy sword, flowing into its two gemstones.
Wings of light spread behind her once more, this time seeming to take on solid form.
They were a pair of pure white wings, thickly feathered, each flap stirring up a powerful gust.
The holy sword seemed to be reforged by the influx of magic, growing longer and broader.
Tremendous power surged from the purple gem, pouring back into Anna and dyeing one of her wings a dark purple-black.
The mirror-like blade reflected Anna’s face: eyes burning red as fire, strands of blood-red woven through her once silver hair, swaying in the storm of her wings.
Anna had no time to examine the changes in her appearance.
She slung the sword behind her, gripping the hilt tightly, and with a sudden flap of her wings, soared upward into the open air, feet pressing against the ceiling as she shot into the midst of the monster horde like a meteor.
Boom.
A peal of thunder.
With Anna’s landing at the center, every monster around her was nearly annihilated.
Only Lydia remained, her figure surrounded by a circle of white feathers, shielded from the shockwave.
Lydia was nearly stunned by the sight.
Not only her, but Ophelia and the newly healed Jessica all stared in shock.
A flicker of pain passed through Jessica’s eyes, while a great storm raged in Ophelia’s heart.