The catastrophic scene played out like a legendary sea siren run amok, countless blood-red tentacles as thick as banyan tree trunks rampaged violently through the opera house, crushing any student council members who couldn't dodge in time, shattering their entire skeletons. Wherever they passed, the cement-cast support columns cracked, the steel-reinforced grandstands collapsed downward, and the stage, over a dozen meters high lost its support; it collapsed with a thunderous crack, the stone-built castle swayed, stage lights shattering on the ground, Lancelot's figure rapidly plummeting.
"Lancelot!" Lin Yaqing reached out and called.
In the chaos, Lin Yaqing's whole body shone deep red, the long boots around her thighs adorned with patterns, this nimble elf darted between the falling stones, leaping swiftly towards Lancelot, extending her hand.
