Suddenly,
their hands stopped.
Stopped there, somewhat stiff.
'Could it be, my gaze has taken effect?'
The old saint tossed aside the ridiculous notion in his mind, and in the next moment, felt a terrifying chill from the surrounding space.
The chill that freezes the holy body, that freezes the soul.
A layer of ice-blue covered his vision, his body suddenly stiffened in place.
Unable to move.
...
A fraction of a second before,
two figures, one white, one black, appeared in an instant.
The old human saint trembled all over, "It's, it's the saint from the Devil Race's side!"
His palm clenched tightly, trembling incessantly.
It's anger, it's fear.
The human youth also recalled the fear dominated by the Devil Race's formidable warriors.
On that day,
countless great beings fell.
On that day,
the sky shed golden blood rain.
Even so, those who could truly escape among the human race were not one in ten thousand.
