Conversation with the Flame of Burning Wrath

After ending Michael's life, despite her confusion over the connection she still shared with the Soul Record, Lilith could not help but stumble backwards.

Her pale face made her look like someone suffering from a terrifying terminal illness and her previously steady and unwavering eyes finally showed signs of hesitation.

She was really tired. Too damn tired.

Exhausted physically, mentally, and spiritually. Not to mention that her injuries were not light at all.

Using her sword for support, Lilith slowly knelt on the shattered ground. She gasped for oxygen to fill her lungs but it didn't do much good because every time she tried to breathe the fire-like energy still persisting deep inside her organism wouldn't stop tormenting her.

"My luck is really bad this time." Lilith smiled bitterly and shook her head as she quietly contemplated, "Any other archangel probably would have been fine. Michael's flames simply cannot be suppressed by my frost skills."