In the skies above the battlefield, the air seemed to vibrate with sacred energy as Strelitzia hovered majestically, her radiant wings reflecting the golden light emanating from the heavens. Beside her, Uriel, Gabriel, and Michael floated, each one radiating a presence that was both imposing and serene.
Below them, Albion remained untouched, not a single scratch from the war raging beneath. Nothing had hit the kingdom, as numerous witches hovered in the air, maintaining energy shields, ready to erase anything that came too close. Why were they there? To ensure the Celestial Virtues were safe.
Strelitzia, though calm at first glance, was weighed down by a silent concern. Her distant, fixed gaze observed the battlefield below with unsettling precision. "They've done well against a clone, but I don't believe they'll survive when the real Mary Rose arrives..." she said, the softness of her voice concealing the gravity of the situation.