They are like a group of incomprehensible monsters, slumbering in the darkness, feeding on the cursed knowledge, feeding on information that mortals should not know. Similarly, depending on the threshold of information, they also selectively hunt, prioritizing the lambs that have ventured beyond the [fence].
The firelight reflected off the angels' cold faces, resembling a divine battle in a religious mural, with sharp iron feathers unfurling in quick succession, their keen edges like a thousand swords.
Upon hearing Lorenzo's roar, Merlin's actions faltered. He looked around only to see the angels converging on this location, their target was William.
"Hold them back! Buy me some time!"
Merlin shouted loudly while drawing out the Folding Blade, which gleamed with a cold, icy light.
It's still not enough, this is not enough.
Merlin's eyes turned red, showing the side of him seldom seen, like an enraged warrior.
