Yuki spread his arms wide, the divine gale still coursing through him, his new body radiating with raw celestial power. His blue eyes glowed like frozen stars, steady yet unyielding, while the white-silver feathers of his wings stretched across the ruined church.
["Now… it's time."] Yuki's voice echoed not only in Shellia's mind but in every corner of the desecrated sanctuary.
The High-Rank Priest, cloaked in writhing demonic corruption, snarled in defiance. His crimson eyes flared, and with a roar that cracked the marble underfoot, he slammed his staff to the ground. Shadows burst upward like geysers, slamming against Yuki's swirling storm. For a moment, heaven and hell clashed in a deadlock—the tempest of the Eternal Sky straining against the abyssal darkness.
But Yuki did not falter. He raised one hand, his small ten-year-old frame seemingly too fragile for the power he was channeling. Yet his aura only intensified.
