It seemed as though all sound had vanished.
The light, too, had been entirely replaced by a blinding white.
In that instant, everyone throughout the royal capital had their entire field of vision consumed by the radiance descending from the sky. Other than that expanse of white, they could see nothing else.
Some screamed.
Some wailed.
Some cried out in shock.
Some fell into panic.
No one knew what had happened.
Even the powerful figures who had gone to the noble district were filled with panic at that moment. Their vision had been stolen by the blinding white light; some shut their eyes and dropped to the ground, while others raised their hands before them, with no thought to spare for anything else.
In the entire royal capital, there were likely fewer than five people who could clearly see what was happening within that radiance.
Some watched from atop the temple, some stared from within House Poztut, some had become one with nature to spy upon everything, and some observed from places unknown.
And in their eyes, it was perfectly clear.
Above the plaza where the fierce battle had taken place, they saw a figure transformed into a streak of light charge toward the descending pillar of radiance, then swing the Holy Sword in his hand, which had likewise become a beam of light, at the moment they collided.
It was a slash of extreme speed.
A flash that pierced through space.
That astonishing slash, unseen by anyone else, struck the crimson pillar of light descending from above like a mayfly shaking a tree—yet it actually severed it as though cutting through fragile paper.
Yes.
It had been severed.
The incomparably crimson Blade of Magic Power was cleanly cut apart, becoming a storm of magic power that swept outward.
That