Until that transcendent aura descended.
Lorraine glanced up, her gaze seeming to penetrate the ceiling to see the person hovering in the air.
"You dare cause trouble on my turf?"
Her Space Ring flashed.
A completely silver firearm appeared in her grasp.
Streamers of light flowed like water across the gun, dense engravings flitting by momentarily.
Lorraine raised the Divine Weapon sniper rifle, angling the barrel at a seventy-five-degree angle upward.
"Ignore Space."
"Absolute Hit."
"Powerful Strike."
The transcendent high above was already locked in her sights.
As time passed, the power of this shot would only grow stronger, whether the target was a resilient transcendent or layered with multiple defenses...
Under the strike of this absolute hit, they would inevitably fall.
This was Lorraine's inherited profession: once Voldemort took action, blood was sure to spatter.
In the end, she didn't pull the trigger, allowing that transcendent to escape.
