The masters of the Psionic Research Society were indeed familiar with the ways of nature, so they naturally chose to make a prompt and decisive retreat.
Ten thousand meters beneath them, the domain laid out by the Starrealm Knights had already expanded to fill every available space, pressing the twisted mass of metallic slime until it could barely move.
Ten minutes ago, it had been a magnificent golem made of crystal, with a halo of wings spread behind it, radiating the aura of a final boss that would have given the entire protagonist party a grueling fight.
But now, it seemed to have degenerated into a mere slime.
For a dignified lord of the Void Realm, this must have been the most humiliating sight imaginable, right?
And so, from within the twisted mass of metal radiating an ominous glow came wails, screams, roars, and curses in countless languages, pouring out from behind its ever-shifting liquid surface and forming a tangible miasma of mental pollution.
Hideous, shapeless faces kept surfacing across the metal mass, struggling and shrieking, only to scatter again and again, like the embodiment of the resentments countless dead had unleashed in their final moments.
These malevolent thoughts took the form of tangible psychic shocks, but before they could harm the enemies around them, they were utterly annihilated by the brilliant sun before them.
Brunhilde stood directly before the twisted monster. The brilliant light emitted by the Dawn Dragon armor encasing her—the sharp radiance of a blazing sun—passed through the domain of the great standard behind her. For a moment, it became less dazzling and less bright, yet more sacred, more solemn, and more profound.
It was as though sunlight had become the sealed primordial light of the universe's first Big Bang.
To ordinary people, this radiance was divine.