Everything you saw, everything you heard, everything you touched, everything you could perceive had now been "dyed" red.
Bang!
Bang!
Bang!
Wraiths and Clerics kept bursting apart, adding fresh brightness to the surrounding red. They were not being wiped out in swathes, but this randomness, like playing Russian roulette, brought an even more oppressive terror, because no one knew whether they would be next.
This once-noisy world was like a radio with its sound switched off, so quiet that it seemed everything had sunk to the bottom of a blood-red pool.
Anyone who wanted to flee felt as though they stood in a mire. Although nothing restrained their bodies, every movement seemed to play out in slow motion. This was a skewing of self-perception-no, a distortion.
From Awakening to moving, from pushing open the gate to emerging through it, Rilielsa had displayed almost no resemblance to the gods of legend throughout the entire process.
Only now did her divine aspect truly appear.
Bede looked at the blood-red color around him. At first, he stood there in a daze for a long time, tears flowing from the corners of his eyes.
Then he picked up the brush beside him. In an instant, his movements returned to normal, and he began rapidly applying paint to the paper.
For an artist truly devoted to art, such a gift of inspiration was a genuine miracle.
Because this single instant might be enough to overturn everything he had ever understood about "beauty."
Holding a bottle of alcohol, Piaget kept looking around. The color is right, so where is my Linda?
"Darling."
A familiar voice sounded behind Piaget. He immediately turned around and saw the wife he longed for day and night standing before him.
"Linda!"
Piaget ran forward.
Linda looked at her approaching husband and