Distracted by the dazzling flash and the howling wind, the young, wild Father Utravsky failed to notice the "grease" beneath his feet.
To stop his rapidly charging body, he leaned forward slightly and stepped ahead with one foot, trying to use friction to halt his momentum.
Then he stepped on the layer of "grease" created by Trip, instantly losing his balance and pitching forward.
But the ship's railing stopped him from falling overboard and plunging into the darkness deep within his mind.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
As he tried to steady himself, a rapid burst of gunfire erupted behind him.
Holding the Peacemaker, Cyril emptied the entire magazine in an instant. The bullets, trailing silver light, shot toward the young Father Utravsky all at once, then shattered in midair, turning into countless fragments of light like the dawn.
The innumerable fragments formed a flashing, frenzied, razor-sharp storm that engulfed Father Utravsky and relentlessly sliced at his body.
A few seconds later, the silver storm dissipated. Father Utravsky stood firmly in place, covered head to toe in damaged, refined plate armor.
The veins stood out on his hands gripping the greatsword, which were stained with fresh blood that still flowed slowly. Beneath his heavy, crested helmet, his brown eyes glared at the spot where Cyril stood.
Looking at the young Father Utravsky, wounded but not seriously, Cyril sighed silently to himself.
Using a Dawn Knight's ability to attack a Dawn Knight really doesn't work.
If only I had a powerful offensive Beyonder Ability.
With that thought, he reached into his coat, pulled out a neat stack of drawing paper, and flung it into the air.
Amid a rustling sound, colors surged across the paper like water, quickly turning from illusion into reality.
Then transparent ghosts, demons with curved horns atop their heads