His face was filled with determination and fury, a vow of deep love for his homeland and an unyielding will to resist the chains of destiny.
"Sever him! He must not be allowed to reshape the order! At all costs!" Hill roared, the Silver Sword in his hand bursting with a dazzling cold light, like a winter blade fiercely cutting through every tentacle that wantonly devoured the rhythm of life, slicing them into dense fragments, scattering Ice Crystal powder in the air.
Meanwhile, David stood at the edge of the hourglass, his whole body ablaze with holy flames, the blue-white divine glow piercing through the dark crevices like dawn, making the surrounding gloom and decay appear as the first light of dawn.
His eyes focused on the layer of turbid and gradually spreading undead black mist covering the surface of the hourglass.
It was formed by the entanglement of time, combined with the sinister and corrosive essence condensed by the Pope's cunning curse.
