Looking at the crazy purple-haired girl, Loran Hill sighed slightly, stretched out his black gauze sleeves, revealing his white wrists, and gently pressed his fingertips on her forehead, using his purification talent to break and dissolve the special power seed.
Pinned to the ground, she struggled to lift her head, gazing at the mysterious girl before her, trying to see through the veil. That was until a pair of clear, azure eyes came into view, pure and clear, with a twinkling starlight in them, intoxicating and tranquil. Then, white fingers covered her vision, and a cool sensation spread across her forehead. It was as if something in her consciousness shattered, and a vast sea of memories surged back, scenes from the past flashing through her mind.
The flags of wisteria and crescent moon, the black army all over the mountains, the raging flames, the fallen tall trees, the people bidding farewell in frustration, the ships sent to the distance, the witch standing in the observatory telling stories, the city walls and towers built on the earth, the prosperous and glorious city, the aerospace battleships floating in the sky, the meteorites landing at dusk, the attacking raven flags, the various figures emerging from the clouds, the petite witch opening a book, the torn and broken images of space, the whispering voice in the ear, the silent cry falling into the abyss, the dark and silent years.
Osuna's life, which was only a dozen years long, was like a small boat in the ocean of time and memory spanning thousands of years, drifting in the wind until it drowned and she fell into a coma.
Loranhill raised his sleeves again, and a quiet breeze of light flowed through the hall, healing the injured people present and allowing them to fall into a peaceful sleep.
"Help her to the side hall and find a bed for her to have a good sleep." Loran Hill said softly, looking at Osuna lying on the ground.
"Yes, Your Highness the Saint."
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