"She fought," Nyxon continued. His voice carried the specific flatness of someone controlling something large underneath the words. "Three minutes. Alone. Against dozens of Galaxion-Tier cultivators and multiple Supercluster-level entities. Without reinforcements. Waiting for rescue that could not arrive fast enough."
"You might think why only 3 minutes, well in battle for cosmic being like me, 3 minutes is like 30 years to me."
A short silence.
"She killed seventeen of them."
He said it with the particular quality of someone reporting a fact they found deeply satisfying.
"Seventeen high-tier cultivators who thought numerical advantage was sufficient. She demonstrated why Daughters of the Universe are feared rather than merely respected." He paused. "But she was badly injured. And when the remaining enemies were closing in, the universe intervened."
Nova raised an eyebrow slightly.
