"Little Deer..." An Xiaotong trailed off. She opened her mouth, her eyes churning with incomparably complex emotions.
"Little Deer is already dead." Those eyes covered in dark purple eyeshadow watched her former friend, her features cold and beautiful, no trace left of her former softness and innocence.
Lu Yao raised her eyes coldly, her voice devoid of warmth. "There is no Lu Yao in this world. There is only Yinglong!"
An Xiaotong's expression suddenly darkened. It felt as though something had fiercely clenched around her heart. The memories of their laughter and conversations had long since shattered, leaving behind only a heavy, deathly silence.
After a moment of silence, she slowly raised her head. The bitterness and struggle in her eyes gradually faded, replaced by solemn resolve.
She could not watch her former friend make one mistake after another, much less allow the Steel Brotherhood to start a war.
The next moment, An Xiaotong raised her hand. A cold glint flashed as the Pure Silver Cross Sword pointed straight ahead!
The air instantly tightened. The silver radiance of the crescent moon fell upon the blade, reflecting a cold, resolute gleam.
"Why are you helping evil? North Mang should not be destroyed by war."
"To reclaim Apocalypse!" Lu Yao gave an answer that broke An Xiaotong's heart.
"Is Apocalypse really that important?"
Lu Yao's gaze was icy as she enunciated each word. "That was my father's Apocalypse!"
An Xiaotong said nothing more. She knew that the Yinglong before her was no longer the Little Deer from her memories.
She stepped forward, sword in hand.
As she took the first step, web-like silver threads emerged across her black trench coat, like moonlight cast by the moon above weaving a net around her body.
Her second step landed, and the silver threads climbed