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The moment Louis cut through Anastasia's body; the girl thought her end had come. Instead, a brilliant beam of light consumed her mind and soul, transferring her consciousness into a vast desert of gray ashes beneath a black sky dotted with a few dozen faint stars.
In the center of this barren wasteland stood a large azure sword, forged entirely from divine ice that would never melt and harder than divine steel, a weapon born from the Dragon King's own frost.
Beside it rested a smaller white sword made of ashen frost, fragile-looking like glass, with a writhing black shadow clinging to it that constantly shifted into countless forms.
"What... what is this place?" Anastasia wondered, glancing around in confusion. "Prince Louis attacked me?! But... did I die?! Why did he do that?! What's going on? Hello? Hello?!"
