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... one day, Yang Ling felt that the whole world suddenly stopped quietly, and then the chaotic purple gold bells on the top of the head were glory, and the bells spurted out the dense runes like tides, and all the cyan flesh and white light creatures were involved in the bells. Among them, countless saints emerged from the surface of the bell, or stood or sat in the middle of Yang Ling, chanting the scriptures, and suddenly sounded like a avenue.

"Where there is something, it is illusory..." ...

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The witch wished.

That things would end with, ‘and the hero lived happily ever after killing the witch,’ like in the fairy tales.

And so, she had devised everything to happen in accordance to her wishes.

But the boy, who had grown up in but no time at all, would make the unfamiliar face of man’s from time to time.

“You want me to kill you? ……Do you really think I’ll let you go?”

Reality was very different from the fairy tales.

“The people don’t know of the precious treasure locked away in the tower.

I won’t let anyone else have this god given treasure, this crown of god surrounded by thorns that no one else could recognize.”

The hero gave the witch a slow and deep kiss.

“I am the true victor, and no one else.”

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