Praise the Goddess

Inside the palace, Klein suppressed the urge to suck in a sharp breath and retreated.

It was impossible to kill Sasrir, the Dark Angel, without being injured. For a demigod of the Seer pathway, injury manifested as the loss of Worms of Spirit.

Even though he was already Sequence 3 and had fully digested the potion, the pain of a Worm of Spirit dying was still very real. He needed some time to settle his mind.

He looked at Alice, wanting to say something, when his spirituality suddenly surged with an extreme sense of crisis. Almost instinctively, he snapped his fingers to summon flames and leaped behind Colin Iliad.

At the same time, a figure wearing a Monocle appeared near where he had just been standing.

That figure's target was not him. He raised his right hand and adjusted the Monocle before turning a smiling gaze toward Alice.

Amon's smile briefly froze at the sight of Alice's silver hair, then turned even more delighted. He seemed to have forgotten why he had come and asked with concern:

"Oh my, why has your hair turned white?"

"Get lost." Alice could not be bothered to waste words on him.

—If it had only been her and Amon here, she would have run off hugging the Blasphemy Slate by now!

Unfortunately, these people had already been included within her protection zone, and they had virtually no ability to fight back against Amon—the true body had come. Klein might be able to escape, but only escape.

So not only did Alice not run, she even stepped forward and blocked Amon's line of sight.

Amon slightly curved the corners of his eyes. He made no comment on her actions, merely shifting his gaze to the Blasphemy Slate in her arms. Then his smile abruptly vanished