With one final flash akin to an apocalyptic lightning, the entire sky was lit up and then dimmed.
A sound of a glass breaking came from everywhere and pieces of a black robe rained down the sky.
Seconds later, the dark clouds parted and a beam of light emerged, falling right on the Fortune Anvil.
A young girl emerged in the light beam, akin to an angel descending to the mortal world. She was gripping the old man by the few hairs of his nearly bald head.
"Pfft,"
Varian couldn't control a chuckle at the comical sight.
Thankfully, the old man was on the verge of losing consciousness and was even barely struggling. If he had been awake, he might have complained about dying with a few hairs intact.
"Hey!"
The spirit landed on the anvil and stomped on the old guy's face before she turned to Varian.
With hands on her hips, she pouted at him with a dissattisfied expression. "Shouldn't you at least thank me? You can kiss my feet, I shall allow it."
