The Dawn Goddess felt an immense annoyance towards these matters, yet she found herself unable to voice her thoughts, forced to endure in silence.
Some things are not as simple as one imagines.
The nefarious outer god's presence here suggested that it certainly held some cards up its sleeve.
Blood slowly trickled from the corners of Scarlett's mouth, her spirit visibly waning.
The surrounding black mist grew denser, incessantly corroding the protective barrier created by the white mist.
Scarlett's hand clenched tightly around her staff, as if it were her sole reliance.
The gaze of the Dawn Goddess sharpened, and soon, a vast, sacred white figure emerged behind Scarlett.
This figure contrasted starkly with the black mist, as if under the illumination of this white light, no evil could ever arise in this world.
Yet, the black mist was compressed to a third of the church's space, showing no sign of retreat behind this dark silhouette.