This is… the Creator personally carving the cycle of life and death!
The air suddenly grew viscous and heavy; an ineffable solemn and austere presence shrouded the entire forest Secret Realm.
In that hush before storm and tempest, only the whisper of leaves, the crack of breaking trunks, and distant beasts' low growls could be heard—yet even these noises were pressed near to silence by the dense, sanctified breath and newborn pulse of life, leaving behind only a vast, epic resonance in the stillness.
Cynthia stepped forward with unwavering resolve, her silver robe swaying with her stride, interweaving with the moonlight and displaying the heroic bearing of a Guardian of the Witch Rider Corps.
"Faith is our root. However it is ravaged, it will make us rise again."
Her gaze was keen and cold, yet her tone bore a power of hope that could not be shaken. "Even if flesh and bone shatter, we shall be reborn in Flame!"
