The longbow is shattered.
The mysterious First Generation Dark Moon, the mastermind behind many events, an ancient Superior Being straddling two realms, is leaving the only mark in nightmares, collapsing with astonishing efficiency.
No matter the back and forth, even to some extent now considered an ally, Mr. Demon Moore clearly has emotions about this pollution that erodes him.
Yet it's so concealed, yet so fragile, clearly unable to withstand the decay brought by the rain of fire.
However, like an amputated work of art, it has reached new heights. This figure, whose very face is somewhat fragmentary, contains a sacred love that, at certain moments, is even more captivating.
So much so that Fu Qian, standing before Him, finds the act of grabbing the Witch's hand to be somewhat unusual.
"So that's it."
However, the Witch does not seem to find it odd, letting the Knight hold her hand.
She turns to look at the little puppet emerging in the Void, then lets out a sigh.
