Even after being jostled to the ground by pedestrians in the street, the young man in white did not panic too badly.
As a propagator of the Holy Light and the commander of Heaven's campaigns across countless worlds... he himself was the subject of countless legends and had weathered far too many storms.
He silently got to his feet and brushed the dust from his clothes, his gaze cold yet composed as he surveyed everything around him.
"An illusion, or..."
He analyzed and sensed everything around him, not even letting the movement of the air escape his notice.
Yet this instinctive, keen perception of his surroundings had now become incredibly sluggish. The young man in white frowned. From his current perspective, it was as though he had been wrapped in a thick membrane, cut off from the entire world.
The pedestrians on the street continued on, and the hubbub of voices remained as loud as ever. People came and went, yet he had already been standing there for a long time.
"The Highest Directive..."
The authority of the Holy Light Kingdom, which he had activated countless times before, showed no response either... After several attempts, the young man in white stopped his meaningless actions.
He remained calm.
Instinctively, he refused to believe that everything he possessed had been stripped away—and that it had happened in the span of a single thought.
"My legend vanished?" The young man in white muttered, "My legend cannot vanish... Even if only one child knows of my existence, I will return."
He slowly let out a breath and looked toward the Saint's residence high within the City of Freedom. Without thinking, the young man in white moved his mind.
But instead of transforming into radiance and departing as usual, he remained standing where he was...