In the surging darkness, countless hair-thin strands extended outward,
as if reaching out from a dream, from the darkness. Some were invisible, perceptible only to powerful spiritual intuition; others were as black as night, yet glimmered faintly.
In midair, Cyril kept "flashing" rapidly, creating countless lifelike afterimages and leaving the strands surging toward him unable to keep up.
As the standoff continued, the howling wind suddenly turned melodious, taking on a harmonious rhythm, as if someone were singing in a low voice.
The moment the sound reached his ears, Cyril's movements slowed considerably as he continued to "flash" through the air and along the streets below.
His Spirituality was slowing, and his thoughts were growing muddled. What he heard wasn't the wind, but the song of Ace Snake, the "Spellsinger of God"!
The instant his "flashing" slowed, the surrounding darkness and the strands extending from it rushed toward him.
The moment the strands touched them, the figures Cyril had created with "Flash" froze one after another.
They were clearly no more than afterimages, yet in that moment they, too, grew quiet and peaceful, as if separated from him. They no longer wanted to resist, but simply wished to slumber in the night.
Then the afterimages were swallowed by the soundlessly surging darkness, dissolving into it and becoming part of it.
Soon, the darkness receded, the howling wind died down, and the lightning darting through the clouds fell still.
Saint Anthony looked at the now-quiet street and spoke in a low voice:
"He's gone."
The "Spellsinger of God," Ace Snake, said irritably:
"A Demigod on the Apprentice Pathway. If he hadn't deliberately stayed to fight us, we wouldn't even have had the chance to see him."
"What was his purpose?" Saint Anthony asked.
As he spoke, a transparent Nature Spirit floated