Let us turn back time to just a few minutes earlier.
Above the vast battlefield surrounding the World Tree fortress.
A tremendous upheaval was taking place across both banks of the entire Paris River Valley and over the plains.
Just as the War Goddesses, flashing with silver light, crossed the sky and plunged straight into the massive army of "Yanbao" led by Baron Dale.
Viewed from across the battlefield, the fighting seemed to have reached its fiercest point. A purple crystal tide surged toward every section of the fortress walls within sight. In that sea glittering with ominous purple light, the banners of the Eluin humans and elves were constantly swallowed up and toppled.
But from time to time, they would reappear.
That symbolized the unyielding resistance of the Tonigellians, as well as the druids and elves of the Black Forest. Their thunderous battle cries gathered into an invisible wall, blocking the Twilight Legion's advance.
Just as Monica had judged beforehand, the scales of victory on the battlefield were tipping—not toward the civilized world. The situation was sliding uncontrollably toward the worst possible outcome. Faced with the endless Crystal Cluster Army, the defenses of this legendary fortress were gradually becoming perilous.
The soul vessel of the newly born Valhalla—the expressionless girl—observed the entire battlefield through her branches, displaying every detail on the enormous crystal façade in the Tree Hall. At the same time, she emotionlessly analyzed the gains and losses on the battlefield, then told Monica:
How much time remained before the final line of defense.
"I know, I know!" Monica shouted impatiently, irritably raking her fingers through her hair—though it was merely made of bright beams of light and had no physical form.
She muttered as she jumped down from the crystal tower and flew through the skylight in