Beelzebub transformed into a huge fleshy mountain with wings, wrapping Turing in its own flesh and carrying her away from the ground.

Covered by countless flesh and blood, Turing swiftly operated the lilac-colored iron chains, forming a two to three-meter high circular shield that kept Beelzebub's tentacles at bay. Those tentacles were fierce, cruel, fearless, and endless, one wave after another assaulting Turing's iron chain shield.

With terrifying strength, the tentacles relentlessly crashed against Turing's iron chains, creating a continuous deafening roar, as if a primordial behemoth was grinding its teeth.

At this moment, Turing was like a small boat adrift in a stormy sea, with nowhere to anchor, allowing everything to come her way—Turing understood how terrifying Beelzebub's power was, so she focused all her energy on perfecting the defense of the iron chains.

Turing furrowed her delicate eyebrows. She raised her arms again, interlacing her palms in front of her chest, then forcefully turned her elbows, attempting to break Beelzebub in half beneath her.

But a sudden dull pain interrupted Turing's action. Instantly, blood started to flow from all seven openings on Turing's body - between her fingers, through her pores, from her belly button - all pouring out black blood to varying degrees.

"Have we entered the stratosphere?"

"I see. She wants to take me away from Acadia to harm me."

"The day Merka and I planned to go to the moon, similar things happened on my body."

"Does Beelzebub also know about these things?"

"But the most crucial question is, isn't she an angel too? Shouldn't these things happen to her as well?"

Turing smoothed her long hair back, extending one hand to her chest and giving an empty grab, summoning several lilac-colored iron chains to distort time and space to teleport herself away.

"This state in the air is too disadvantageous for me. I must hurry and return to the ground."

Although her brain felt like it was being pounded with a heavy hammer at that moment, the fighter-mode Turing was almost immune to any form of pain and negative emotions, subconsciously choosing to ignore them.

However, as the altitude increased further, Acadia was not only inflicting more pain on Turing but also imposing limitations on her magic. Due to a miscalculation in outputting her magic, Turing finally revealed a loophole—small as it may be—in the airtight iron chain sphere she controlled.

A tentacle, equally as tiny as the gap, seized the opportunity, forcefully launching into the interior of the iron chains. This particular tentacle resembled a shattered brilliance cast by the setting sun, sharp yet symbolic of countless declines and uncertainties.

It pierced through Turing's defense, instantly penetrating her skull and perforating her brain. With a crisp crack, the tentacle burst inside Turing's cranial cavity. Like a wildly growing sea urchin, it released numerous tiny tentacles at its tip, shattering Turing's entire head.

Turing's headless body immediately lost momentum, slumping down and sitting at the base of the ball formed by the iron chains, passing out momentarily, unconscious.

One second passed, two seconds, three seconds.

Four seconds, five seconds, six seconds. Turing's head finally started to reform.

But before Turing could cough out the coagulated blood in her throat, a scorching sensation, akin to being grilled alive, spread throughout her body.

Now, Beelzebub and Turing had reached the outermost boundary of the atmosphere, the thermosphere. They were nearly eighty kilometers from the ground, a height unreachable by any living being except humans.

From this rarely traversed perspective, Earth unfolded its entire outline. A blue water planet, revealing its exquisite beauty, covered in speckled lights as if recounting the rise and fall of civilizations.

The moon, once desired by Turing, now seemed within reach, emitting a faint glow in the distant future ahead of her.

But at this moment, Turing had no time to dwell on these matters. Covered in blood, breathing heavily, with her heart throbbing like a boiling copper pot, she felt her consciousness gradually slipping away. Finally, she recognized that she was on the brink of death.

"It's probably for the best."

Gradually, Beelzebub returned to its original size from the fleshy mountain, gently addressing Turing. She captured Turing's neck with one hand, lifting her towards the snow-white, glassy moon.

The chilly lunar breath pervaded the earth, while the glaring rays of the sun bathed the atmosphere along the planet's edge, gently kissing the moon.

From this fusion of day and night gods, the ultimate romanticism surged forth like spring willow catkins.

Observing Turing in front of her, Beelzebub's power gradually increased, while Turing's breath slowly decreased.

The moonlight adorned her with silver, the sun set her clothing with gold and gems, and the earthly lights elevated her gown.

Converging on Beelzebub, they illuminated the empty space, making it appear sacred and exquisite.

"Death is just a simple conclusion."

"If you survive, you will undoubtedly face Oedipus's endless torture in the sequel."

"Let me put an end to your short yet pure life."

The golden patterns exclusive to Beelzebub's volcanic mode erupted into a brilliant flash, a spectacular display rivaling the sun, moon, and stars.

"Join this poetic full moon in your burial."

"Grand Flame Spiral."

As Beelzebub uttered the last syllable of the spell, the entire world fell into silence.