The sound of glass hooves striking echoed through the red corridor, the queen urging her glass horse as fast as she could.
Her blue eyes were fixed on the light from the hall at the end of the corridor. Her gaze looked cold, she held tightly onto her glass horse, and without realizing it she bit her own lip.
A gust of wind struck the queen as she rode her glass horse, the wind coming from the hall she was heading toward, but it was not like usual—it carried warmth and cold at the same time.
The queen's hair stood on end as she felt it, and from that hall emerged a golden light and black mist.
The queen swallowed, her previously empty mind now beginning to think of something strange.
"A clash of holy energy and demonic energy?"
After a while, the queen and her glass horse reached the end of the corridor. The sound of the horse's hooves stopped, her blue eyes widened when she saw something that should not be there.
