"Master, the Demon King has breached the sanctuary's walls!" cried Dea, her form reduced to a tiny luminescent orb, darting nervously through the air beside me, her glow pulsating with urgency.
"Transmit his coordinates to me. I'll halt his rampage. Meanwhile, conjure additional sanctuaries to shield our populace," I commanded. The moment my eyes locked onto the pulsing red marker in the distance, my angelic wings unfurled, each feather shimmering like ethereal fire. With a beat of my wings, I rocketed through the air, the wind howling past me as if singing a desperate lament.
"How formidable is this Demon King?" I inquired, my voice tinged with anxious anticipation.
"He's unimaginably powerful, Master—fivefold or perhaps even tenfold stronger than master. If master stand at level 50, he easily surpasses a hundred," Dea informed me, her timbre saturated with a heaviness that seemed to permeate the very air around us.