Royal Palace Hall.
Inside the hall, the air was so stagnant it felt suffocating.
A group of ministers fled back to the Royal Palace in disarray, their robes tangled and cold sweat dripping from their foreheads.
Occasionally glancing out the window, the distant sky was torn in two; one half was a sacred golden choir, the other a decayed black clock tower. The residual waves of energy collision vibrated the crystal chandelier, even from miles away.
Even though they had escaped back.
Some still clutched their chests, trying to calm their racing hearts, while others' legs trembled, barely managing to stand by holding onto the hall's giant pillars.
Is this what battles between heroes look like?
Ordinary professionals don't even qualify to watch.
At this moment the side door of the hall slowly opened.
Brittany, supported by a young maid, walked in steadily, her skirt unruffled, still dignified and composed.
