Hei Xiaohu was purified completely within Divinity's holy radiance, from head to toe, from flesh to soul, reduced to the most basic particles and returned to the Void.
A breeze swept through the ruins, stirring up a little smoke and dust. Other than that, there was dead silence.
Hong Mao stood frozen several yards away, the tip of the Rainbow Sword in his hand trembling slightly. Behind him, Blue Rabbit, Shali, Da Ben, Dou Dou, Da Da, and Tiao Tiao were all rooted to the spot, their eyes filled with utter shock and bewilderment.
It was over?
Hei Xiaohu, who had been so powerful and kept talking about "causality," "trajectory," and "destiny," was just gone?
Killed in one blow by a phantom summoned by a feather?
It had all happened too quickly, too suddenly, and with far too much impact.
One moment, they had been prepared to die. The next, their greatest threat had vanished into thin air?
Hong Mao slowly lowered his arm, letting the Rainbow Sword hang at his side. He looked down at his left hand, where that pristine white feather still rested quietly.
There was no imagined dimming of its radiance, nor had it faded in the slightest after unleashing that attack.
It was exactly as it had been when it first appeared—spotless, gentle, and warm, giving off a faint halo. It was as though the strike that had purified Hei Xiaohu had been nothing more than an insignificant fraction of its power.
As Hong Mao looked at it, the shock in his heart did not subside. Instead, it surged wave after wave.
It could summon an angelic phantom with such sacred might and erase Hei Xiaohu completely in a single blow. Yet such power was attached to a feather as light as nothing?
And after