By the time the girl made a gesture as though gripping a spear, Roland had already given up fighting.
For after that sweet, melodious voice delivered its verdict, a bone-deep chill rose through his body.
His intuition kept sounding alarms, waves of intense danger signals surging from his spine into his mind.
Had he not witnessed the power of the Angel of the Heaven of Heavens, it would hardly have been strange for his body to let out a teeth-grating groan.
If his intact main body had been present, Roland might have considered buying time to activate the Key of All Spirits, but a mere tendril of the dream had neither the ability nor the need.
So he simply admired the utterly unbeatable monster before him in silence.
She was a slender, ethereal girl who looked no more than thirteen or fourteen.
There was nothing to fault in her appearance. Her skin was fair and flawless, her features perfectly proportioned, like an exquisite Western doll.
The girl wore a broad-brimmed witch's hat, with a black leather bikini beneath her open-fronted fur coat.
She wore an eyepatch over her right eye, while her visible eye was a green as clear and luminous as the open sky.
Her lovely hair fell in natural waves past her shoulders, shining like gold in the sunlight spilling down.
With such mysterious, alluring attire, that porcelain-delicate beauty should have possessed the elusive mystery of a fairy.
Yet even harder to ignore than that natural, inborn charm was the soul-shaking majesty spilling from her petite body.
This is bad. Doesn't such a contrast between her looks and her bearing only make me want to see what she looks like when she acts spoiled?
So Roland thought.
After suffering one setback after another at the hands of the