Belvia looked at the person before her—or rather, the Demon God.
That tall, even truly majestic body; that platinum hair; that battle robe seemingly condensed from the radiance of myriad civilizations; together with the intricate, mysterious platinum patterns across his body—taken as a whole, he was no different from a true Demon God.
From the contours of Zhao Cheng's face, she could indeed glimpse traces of the boy Zhao Cheng had once been, but only traces.
At the same time, this form undoubtedly better matched the image she had once imagined Zhao Cheng to be. If she had never met the adolescent Zhao Cheng, it would have been nothing.
But now, seeing him like this, what filled her heart was not so much the joy of being saved as a vague sense of loss.
It seemed that when Zhao Cheng truly appeared, the distance between them had not narrowed, but instead been stretched infinitely farther apart.
Of the countless twists of fate in this world, there were ultimately no blessings where everything fell perfectly into place. She also understood that the fruit came before the cause, and that some things had diverged from the very beginning.
She also saw Void Kalpa in Zhao Cheng's hand. It seemed to be the very same one she had been using all along, yet she could feel that the same sword was in an utterly different state in his hand than it had ever been in hers.
The sword was cheering!
Platinum radiance shone upon her, and her lost arm reappeared in an instant. Rather than saying it had grown back, it was more accurate to say that she herself had been refreshed in her entirety.
"Come. I'll take you to kill a god!"
Zhao Cheng smiled, his smile utterly pure.
In a single