Bologue seemed to be in an echoing chamber, the sound of something ripping through the air sometimes distant and barely audible, sometimes close enough to feel like it was right behind him.
"Buzz—"
A roaring and loud string sound tore through the silence, piercing and shrill echoes rushing through the iron passageway. The waves of sound crashed against Bologue's eardrums with intense pain, briefly depriving him of hearing, leaving only a long, droning hum.
Bologue steadied his steps, angrily staring ahead. The sharp blade sliced off a corner of the Round Shield, its cold tip mere centimeters from piercing Bologue's eye.
Bai Ou's face showed ecstatic joy, countless currents created by his high-speed advance lifted his black robes, swirling and surging, blossoming into black lotuses, like a Death God from the deep, dark night.
