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It hit him dead-on, with the audience looking away, not wanting to see their prince reduced to a pile of melted bones, but though steam and smoke filled the air around Seraph, he was unharmed, albeit soaked. His aura had protected him, undoing the magic enhancement on the water, so when it hit him, it was chemically inert. The moment the blast ended, Seraph dropped his defenses, gasping for air from fatigue. What he would give to be even half as powerful as he was a year ago. He didn’t have time to rest, as Phune immediately commenced another attack. A continuous jet of water slammed against his raised palms and clashed with the light aura before him. Every loose drop hitting the ground smoked from the acidic burn, a reminder of what would happen if his strength or focus faltered for even a second.

That's it, Seiya. Don't be afraid of me. Very soon, you will understand everything. Finally, we can be together. Calm, please take a look at me. Look at my eyes. The intricate spirals make you feel relaxed. As a saint, your mission is to serve Athena, but now the battles are over. You just need to focus on me. It's time for you to take a break. I will help you. Soon, you will only have me in your head.

“So the garrisons along the border, they aren’t simply fending off the Profane, they’re rounding up refugees fleeing Handent to be sold off?”“This is war.”