Black mist, entirely different from the pale yellow smog, gradually spread around her. It carried the smell of rust, and when passersby inhaled it into their lungs, it triggered violent coughing fits.
Panacea herself remained completely unaffected and continued walking forward.
If one observed from directly above, one would see the Mist of Death covering nearly half of East Borough using this Demoness of Despair as its arrowhead as it continued to spread onward.
"What a pity. My original plan was to wait until after the New Year, when winter would make the damp, cold smog even worse, allowing them to set up several more rituals to enhance the effects of the disease..."
She seemed to be talking to herself.
"But it seems the results are quite good even now. By the time the Three Great Churches react and disperse the smog, the death toll will likely exceed fifty thousand. Heh, that's a bargain for Mr. A of the Aurora Order. His ritual's chances of success aren't high, and I don't believe the True Creator will actively descend upon Backlund either. But he can draw away most of the attention and create an opportunity for me to leave this place.
"Heh, they want to bear all the sins. Then let them have their wish."
As Panacea looked up at the sky, countless wronged souls of the dead, filled with despair and rage, were being drawn toward the ritual within the ruins outside the city in her mirror-like, placid eyes, becoming assistance for the ritual presided over by Mr. A.
If the ritual could have been launched after the New Year, it would have been even more spectacular... But Trissy's resistance had grown stronger and stronger. Agents like Capim and Baelen had died one after another, official Beyonders had begun noticing