When Facing Big Brother, I Strike with My Greatsword (Continued)

The power of that sword strike was astonishing.

It directly forced Rosalyn, who had transformed into Witch, back into human form, leaving a gruesome sword wound on her body that nearly cleaved her in two.

Dvalin immediately lowered his wings to gently shield Rosalyn, who was unable to get up, and then focused intently on the newcomer. At the same time, a gentle breeze blew from all directions, and a graceful and alluring blue fairy appeared above Dvalin's head, smiling as she looked at the person who had drawn the sword.

"As expected, you've been watching from the beginning. There was never any chance from the start."

The blond-haired youth sighed, his bright golden eyes revealing an unusual indifference, and stood straight beside the kneeling, wounded Abyss Herald.

Wendy just smiled and didn't reply.

But Ying had already recovered from her brief moment of shock, and then, unable to contain herself, she stepped forward, her voice trembling:

"Null!"

"Ying, you shouldn't be traveling with Dainsleif. He's my enemy."

"What are you talking about? Why are you bringing up irrelevant things? Were you watching me the whole time? Then why didn't you come out and find me?"

Ying's emotions are spiraling out of control.

Five hundred years have passed, and the separation that felt like a matter of life and death has left a deep-seated fear in her heart—a fear that it might truly be a final farewell.

She was always afraid, didn't Kong understand?

"... Ying, continue your journey. At the end of your travels, let the world leave its mark in your eyes. Then, you will see what I have seen."

"What are you doing, trying to be a riddle? Come on, let's go home!"

"Ying, I'm sorry. I still have things to do, it's not the right time yet. Let's continue our journey, and at the end of the journey, we will meet again."

"I don't understand! Since you refuse to speak human language, then let me take you back and beat you until you speak human language!"

The worries and fears that had been building up, the nightmares that often haunted her at midnight, and all the heartache and tears that only she knew, gradually transformed into a burst of anger at this moment.

Ying drew his sword and pulled out his musket, his eyes gleaming with a bloodshot killing intent.

Kong instinctively felt a chill run down his spine, his face stiffened, and he took a step back.