It must be Him.
Apart from Kenmin, Kamiyagawa couldn't think of any other deity in the Mizuho Country within the Reed Plains whose mere presence would have such an overwhelming sense of pressure.
Whoosh—
Above the lake, the gusts continued to ravage, making it difficult for the blood-red mist to gather together.
The heavy black armor treaded across the water, grinding towards Mary.
Though appearing incredibly heavy, Kenmin's movements were abnormally swift. The slender naginata swept out in front of Him, with the scythe blade tearing through vast spaces, causing the winds on the lake to howl even fiercer, with a whistling sound.
Aside from the sound of the wind, the naginata swung out by Kenmin was eerily silent, without a trace of sound.
Clang!
The oppressive naginata and the bloody cleaver clashed, and it seemed as if all sounds were momentarily isolated, leaving only the thumping of Mary's heart pounding in her ears.
"Ugh..."
