Looking down from above, it resembled a sea of blood.
This was supposed to be a place where people in the Ivory Tower wove their dreams. The white pillars, the grand dome, the exquisite reliefs... everything symbolized elegance and wisdom. But now, the Ivory Tower was torn to shreds, utterly ruined.
Blood spilled like paint, splashing in all directions from the central platform. Severed limbs, broken armor, twisted weapons, charred marks... the entire venue, along with the surrounding streets, resembled a vast, crimson map.
In front of Yamada Machiichi, Flora lay down slowly. This Elemental Mage, always calm and capable, looked ashen and her breaths were faint. She had long overexerted herself, using her own life force to sustain Yamada Machiichi's "Combat Continuation" as if she were fuel.
She lifted her head, looking at Yamada Machiichi's face, smudged with paint, and smiled slightly:
"Still alive..."
"That's good..."
