Lord of Winter: Beginning with Daily Intelligence Chapter 770 - 427:

Within the column, there was no stone to be found.

It presented a sickening spectacle.

Innumerable golden nerve fibers densely packed the entire stone column, intertwined and writhing. A translucent spiritual membrane, much like incompletely formed blood vessels, covered their surfaces.

These fibers were not static; they pulsed.

With a steady yet chilling rhythm, they contracted and expanded, as if the very Holy Hall itself was inhaling and exhaling.

Eduardo observed these fibers extending outward in all directions.

Yet, all their terminations ultimately traced along the thick main conduits beneath the floor, converging toward a solitary core.

The white throne, positioned atop the thorn-patterned feather crown.

Wings resembling thorns opened and closed at an exceedingly slow pace, as if regulating their breath or awaiting a precise signal.

Every faint pulse instigated a synchronized tremor throughout the Holy Hall’s internal neural network.

Eduardo could not fathom the purpose of this structure’s existence.

It lacked any religious symbolism and defied any known principles of alchemy.

This was a colossal organ, fully optimized and maintained in a dormant state for a prolonged period.

And now, it was systematically evaluating each accessible node.

The atmosphere within the Holy Hall began to descend.

Not flowing, but dropping.

It felt as though an unseen weight was compressing the entire space inward, dragging even the light down toward the ground.

Breathing grew arduous, the edges of thought started to falter, and time lost its linear progression, leaving only a forced elongation, a perpetual, unyielding stillness.

The forest’s Holy Maiden, Sylvie, was the first to yield.

Her breath, unknowingly, fell into complete synchronicity with the Holy Hall’s rhythm.

The spiritual fluctuations on her skin were progressively smoothed and diminished, layer by layer, until they approached absolute zero.

Her pupils gradually widened, her gaze becoming unfocused.

However, no sign of pain registered on her countenance.

It was an expression of near-blissful daze, as if she had finally discovered her rightful place and was granted the privilege of merging into a grander entirety.

Her body tilted forward slightly, as if heeding a call audible only to her.

In the subsequent moment, her heartbeat ceased.

There was no convulsion, no cry; her body lost its support and gently slumped to the cold floor, without even the slightest reverberation.

Gabriel, the arbiter, advanced almost concurrently.

His sacred Fighting Energy surged fiercely under instinctive direction, brilliant platinum light erupting from the gaps in his armor.

Yet, before that power could propagate, it was brusquely suppressed by an entity of a superior order.

It was as if his defiance was deemed an unresolvable anomaly from the outset.

Gabriel’s expression shifted dramatically for the first time.

It wasn't fear, but a complete shattering of his comprehension.

His Fighting Energy, his faith, all that constituted his self-identity, was proven utterly insignificant in that instant.

He opened his mouth, seemingly intending to utter something.

In the following second, his pupils contracted sharply.

A golden nerve fiber erupted from beneath the floor, impaling his chest like a venomous serpent.

No blood was shed; the fiber achieved synchronization with his sacred Fighting Energy the moment it entered his being.

Gabriel’s body stiffened momentarily.

Then, like a hollowed vessel, he slowly crumpled to the ground.

Two figures.

Lay quiescently at the foot of the Holy Hall’s steps.

No announcement was made of their demise.

Nor was one necessary.

Eduardo remained motionless, having not stirred since the beginning.

The palm of his right hand now throbbed with more than simple pain.

The golden emblem signifying Divine Grace had entirely broken free from restraint, its hue rapidly deepening to crimson, as if a superheated brand had been seared directly into his soul. The intense, burning agony surged along his nerves, piercing into the very core of his consciousness.

It was an agony felt at the soul’s level.

A final, forceful command was being issued to him: Flee.