After Gwanghwi's soul was completely absorbed into Michael, Arabella's body fell limply to the ground, like a puppet whose strings had been cut. Her long black hair spilled over a pale face, clearly marked by an expression of pain beneath closed eyelids.
Alfred reached out with trembling hands, gently cradling Arabella in his embrace.
"Arabella..."
He raised a hand to gently stroke her cheek.
It had been so long since he'd felt this touch.
Her body was cold and her breathing faint, but she was still alive.
This lingering life was the aftermath left behind by Gwanghwi's soul passing through her.
Seeing this, Michael swiftly stepped forward.
"Grandfather! Quickly, take this."
In Michael's hand was the core essence extracted from Gwanghwi.
It looked as if someone had condensed a blazing sun into a handful.
The brilliant golden crystal pulsated slowly, swirling inside with an endless array of stars. It contained the essence, will, and power of a deity.
