"Where is Merka...?"

Yanling, covered in injuries, rushed over exhaustedly. She limped her way to the steps of Erisburg, panting heavily as she looked around, searching for Merka's trace.

She looked solemn and stiff. Clearly, she felt that letting Merka come over was a very neglectful act.

"Merka is dead, along with the little girl who followed him," London tilted her head, looking at the night sky in the distance, speaking nonchalantly.

Manchester seemed to feel sorry for Yanling's appearance. She walked down a few steps and supported the shaky Yanling.

As a half-angel, she might be able to empathize more with the unstable emotions of these pure-blooded angels.

"You should hurry back to the castle for a rest, we'll be here guarding," Yanling breathed out heavily, nodded, and followed Manchester into the castle.

However, just as they entered the castle and hadn't taken a few steps, a sharp female voice shattered the harmonious atmosphere.

"That wasn't me! It must be Merka!"

Yanling's figure appeared again under Erisburg. She rushed out from the noisy battlefield like a flash of lightning, heading straight towards Erisburg.

"What?"

Manchester only then reacted, but it was too late.

What she supported was not Yanling, but Merka who had hidden himself using a backdrop!

At this moment, Merka returned to her original form, raising the dagger high, glaring with eyes as cold as the chill of a thousand-year-old snow-capped mountain, with a stern expression, thrusting towards Manchester's head.

Before Manchester could react, the sharp dagger split her head open like a melon.

This blow completely rendered her incapacitated.

"Damn it...!"

Yanling reacted faster than the other Kyopa soldiers. She shot into the interior of Erisburg like a bullet, heading straight for Merka's head on a silver platter.

But Merka succeeded in his strike without stopping. With his familiarity with Erisburg after spending over a month there, he made his way directly to Turing's bedroom, even easier than returning to his own home.

"You little brat, you're too arrogant for your own good."

Just as Merka reached the second floor, the golden-haired Liverpool appeared like a dark golden shadow, puncturing through the floor of the corridor from the first floor.

Her hair fluttered, squatting on the ground, emitting a golden glow, like a golden panther under the sunlight.

"Power Angel! Kill her!"

"What...?"

Merka roared, a hideous creature with bulging muscles and an ugly face suddenly appeared on Liverpool's left side, fiercely striking at Liverpool.

This incredibly strong blow, like a crane, immediately sent Liverpool flying out from the glass of the second floor of Erisburg.

London and Yanling, who arrived late on the second floor, witnessed this scene, feeling horrified.

"It's over, that thing got into this kid's hands."

"We should have kicked him to death at the beginning."

London looked at Power Angel beside Merka with a wry smile.

But Merka didn't give her a chance to react. He placed a hand on Power Angel's back, gritting his teeth as he turned to London.

"Descent of the Holy Son..."

"Block them for me, Power Angel!"

Flesh and blood, resembling a white lotus, bloomed from Power Angel's body. Its body quickly shrank, gradually turning into a white wax figure of human height, with a halo appearing above its head.

"I'll stop it, you go catch that Curseborn brat... Argh!"

"Heart of the Furnace!"

As London spoke, Power Angel was already in front of her.

London waved her hands, releasing a tide of mud like an incoming sea.

But what Power Angel opened up, its two arms exuding strange strength like mantis arms, covered the entire corridor, sending London high into the air.

For a moment, London's internal organs were all shattered by the impact.