Olivia folded the dress and placed it on the nightstand.
Nuolina floated over from the other side of the bed, her pink hair drifting in the air, the ends brushing against Olivia’s cat-ear hat.
She stopped right in front of Olivia, sitting cross-legged while floating in midair, her pink eyes meeting Olivia’s.
“Can you summon that Holy Gun of yours now?”
Olivia lowered her hands from the cat-ear hat.
She closed her eyes.
She extended her right hand in front of her, fingers spread.
Nothing appeared in her palm.
She tried for a while, then opened her eyes.
Her empty palm shimmered with a faint silver glow under the lamplight.
“Hmm. Doesn’t seem to work.”
She turned her right hand over to look at the back, then turned it back to look at the palm.
“Phew, it seems the Holy Gun has a bloodline resonance.”
Nuolina lowered her crossed legs and touched the carpet with her bare feet.
“Bloodline resonance?”
“The sacred relics of the Angelic race actively accept embraces from their own kind.”
Nuolina’s pink hair gently floated in the air.
“And this isn’t the only sacred relic.”
Olivia put her hands down.
“How many are there?”
“Probably twelve.”
Nuolina tilted her head, thinking.
“Twelve.”
Olivia’s silver-white eyelashes drooped.
She had run for so long and only found one, and even then she couldn’t use it.
Her fingers unconsciously traced patterns on the bedsheet.
“It’s said they were created by the first hundred-winged angel, and each is guarded by a ten-winged angel.”
“So those ten-winged angels are slacking off.”
Back then, in the ruins, Olivia had been beaten until she bled.
She touched the Angelic race’s inscriptions, and the entire ruins lit up.
Victoria emerged from the clock casing, spreading a hundred wings, the golden light so dazzling that Olivia couldn’t open her eyes.
Then, from her palm grew that gun—golden barrel, white stock, and a muzzle shaped like blooming petals.
She pulled the trigger, and holy light pierced Von Brunswick.
Just that one time.
After that, she could never summon it again.
Could this gun change its mind?
“Or maybe you’re too weak right now. The relic can’t sense your existence.”
“Hmm. Fair enough.”
Olivia took off the cat-ear hat and placed it next to the pillow.
Her silver-white hair spread out over her shoulders.
She rubbed her eyes.
“Let’s sleep first.”
Looking into the distance, departing old friends
Τη μακρινή θέα, τους φίλους που έφυγαν
When will we meet, when will we part?
Πότε να ξανανταμώσουμε, πότε να αποχωριστούμε
The past was glorious, like flowing water.
Οι περασμένες δόξες, σαν νερό που τρέχει
No more returns, no more memories.
Δεν επιστρέφουν πια, δεν τις νοσταλγούμε
Perhaps they accuse me, but what can be true?
Μήπως μπορείς να μου πεις, τι είναι αληθινό;
Show me the truth, cherish what I see.
Δείξε μου την αλήθεια, εκτίμησε όσα βλέπω”
“What the heck?”
Olivia was completely confused by this sudden segment.
‘Which rhythm game zombie is singing and dancing rap this late at night?’
“Nuolina?”
No response.
‘This isn’t some mystery novel. What’s going on?’
Then, a phantom silhouette appeared before her: a tall armored figure in pure white armor, holding something unknown—a silver-white shell with six iron pipe-like objects.
Behind him were ten light wings.
The strength of the Angelic race is proportional to the number of light wings.
The more wings, the stronger the power.
It’s said that a four-winged angel could easily destroy a city-state.
This armored figure actually had ten wings…
What terrifying power was this?
“W-Who are you?”
That thing didn’t answer, standing there like a statue.
Olivia stepped forward and poked the armored figure.
No reaction.
She tried to pry open his massive armor, but even with her Dragon race’s strength, she couldn’t budge it an inch.
This guy…
It was like he had armor growing out of his skin.
Was it that sturdy?