One month had passed inside the sanctuary of the Primordial Zenith bone tomb, and for the three of them, time was no longer measured by the alternation of day and night which never truly existed beneath the miasma sky but by the number of Colossi corpses they had reduced to ash.
Sylvia had now reached Level 380. The change that occurred within her was not merely an increase in statistical numbers or an expansion of mana capacity within her core; it was a dense and profound mental transformation. The face that once still held remnants of impulsive expression had tempered itself into a sharp calmness like a cold scythe blade. Her crimson eyes no longer burned with explosive battle lust, but with absolute, deadly calculation. Every step she took left no room for hesitation; she knew exactly when to behead, when to restrain the Death Flame, and when to allow an enemy into the boundary of her domain before crushing them in a single breath.
