In the fierce white fog and black sea, the final act of the Angel Hunt was taking place.
The golden fish was shrinking.
Under the gaze of Ash and the others, this golden fish guarding the silver wings, having taken a hit from the Sword Light, did not bleed, did not bear scars, nor did it scream. It quietly swam around the silver wings, pressing its scales against the feathers, like a mother comforting her child, or a sister taking care of her brother.
Each movement left golden ripples, turning the entire battlefield into its stage. Its proud swimming mesmerized the mages, its aloof attitude halted the white fog, and its elegant glow even made the black sea feel ashamed.
It seemed as if the whole world was reduced to a dance between gold and silver.
As the golden fish grew smaller, the mages heard a distant bubbling sound, and then the golden fish dove into the silver wings and disappeared.
The fearless Ghost Prophet murmured, "I have a bad feeling..."
