As Mist Angel's voice fell, the hazy human figure condensing in the air gradually became clearer.
The soul dust, already shattered to the point of being almost formless, was given a distinct appearance—
She looked eighty to ninety percent like the young Lucia, while the remaining part faintly resembled Sister Sasha. However, her hair was no longer black. Instead, it had become pure white, like milk. Her skin had also grown paler... but not with a healthy pallor. It was a cold-toned white, almost transparent like skin exposed to intense light, as if it were glowing.
Her unsettling scarlet eyes had also lost their red color, becoming hollow-looking, frightening silver-white eyes. If one's eyesight was poor, looking at her from a distance might even make it seem as if she had only the whites of her eyes.
She had lost the savage fangs the Child of the Moon used for hunting. Instead, she floated in midair with both feet off the ground, as light as a wisp of smoke.
"I... What is this...?"
The little girl opened her eyes and murmured in confusion.
Her voice was no longer as flat and arrogant as Cain's. Instead, it had become soft, like that of a real little girl.
"Don't look, Sherlock."
Iver gave a low warning before taking off the black robes of the Cardinal Bishop and draping them over the little girl.
"Who would look?"
Sherlock replied irritably, though he also turned his gaze away.
He was thinking about other, more important matters and truly had no time to concern himself with the Blood Angel reborn in the Material Realm.
Iver's voice became slightly more magnetic—he had once again used the "slightly higher voice" he only used during the Promotion Ritual. In a gentle tone, he asked the little girl, "Do