During the prolonged battle, her double-edged spear carves countless wounds. Blood, vital fluid, and whatever substance makes up Punishing creatures, all of it streams along the blade's groove and splashes toward the sky.
The spear, draped in red, twirls through the air leaving only a blur, like an eternal, unbroken circle.
Until all of "Lloyd's" remains are destroyed, until Ephialtes lowers his head, falls to his knees, and his body gradually fades into transparency.
Another empty vessel, driven by misguided heroism, fades away.
He seems to drag his broken body back to the new world he had always longed for.
Meanwhile, in a distant corner of the old world, someone seems to sense something and pauses the hand shuffling their cards.
Such devastating losses, Ephialtes.
...Just a leftover scrap from the card table, and yet with those broken remains, you actually dared to dream of igniting the flames that would destroy the old world?
I've never approved of that kind of spirit.
She puts away her cards, ready to move on to the next location.
Anyway, I only lent a small hand. I'll just accept the loss and move on.
But in the moment before leaving, she perceives new information—like a wisp of smoke slowly drifting across her tongue.
...Oh?
She can't help but smile.
Impressive indeed. They actually managed to cultivate controllable little bugs?
