Five minutes.
That was all Dante could buy me.
I exhaled slowly.
'He doesn't have his "Stronger" ability. If he did, the hammer wouldn't be moving at all,' I noted.
Still, five minutes was already the best-case scenario.
In five minutes, another hammer would fall.
And after that, the Cursed Spirit God would stop holding back.
It would use more than one hammer at once.
Dante wouldn't be able to stop that, even if he was stronger. His current form had only two hands and could stop one hammer.
Which meant these five minutes were everything.
I moved immediately.
I drew alchemical runes on the ground, my fingers moving with practiced speed.
The lines were clean, precise, and unadorned.
As I chanted, light gathered, shaping itself into fabric.
White ceremonial robes formed in front of me. The kind worn by shrine priests in Japan. The details had to be exact. The length. The folds. The way the sleeves hung.
I put them on and adjusted them carefully.
