Nine Rounds

“Twelve-Winged Angel?” Linley let out a slightly relieved sigh.

The lower the level an Angel was, the faster they would die.

“It is very hard to birth a Twelve-Winged Angel. The Twelve-Winged Angels which exist have been slowly accumulated over the course of countless years. The Sovereigns of Light won’t casually dispatch Twelve-Winged Angels out to take on missions. Sometimes, a million years will pass without a single Twelve-Winged Angel being activated. Your mother became a Twelve-Winged Angel less than ten thousand years ago. The chances of her death are virtually negligible.” Beirut laughed.

Only now did Linley completely relax.

“Haha, Grandpa Beirut, your logical reasoning has calmed me down quite a bit.” Linley now felt more than enough self-confidence in his ability to rescue his mother.

“Right. Grandpa Beirut.” Linley waved his hand, and an earth-type Sovereign spark, glowing with an earthen yellow light, appeared. “This is an unexpected reward that I acquired.”