Even so, a strange glimmer flickered in Miss Witch's eyes.
How many days had passed?
Unexpectedly, her believer had been so capable, already causing a degree of fate distortion regarding the past of the Bright Moon Goddess.
It seemed he had taken her instructions to heart.
*Thinking of this, the Doomsday Witch slowly sat upright, leaning against the pillar behind her, gently brushing her long hair away from her ear.*
The faint pink corners of her lips curled into an almost imperceptible smile—it seemed her mood was quite good.
If she could shatter the shackle on her right hand, the one symbolizing the Bright Moon Goddess, her Authority and power would surely progress even further toward revival.
Of course, a crack of this level alone was far from sufficient to free her from the shackle on her right hand.
If the crack could be magnified dozens of times, though, it would be much easier.
