At that very moment, Urul Tak, who was usually unperturbed and passive, let them die pointlessly without moving a finger, his aura reeking of evil. His feline eyes were no longer apathetic, but were now animated by an eerie whitish light tugging at their souls.
With a nonchalant wave of his hand, a translucent, ethereal mantle cloaked his orc body, while a necklace set with magatamas carved from strange stones loomed around his neck. Similar bracelets appeared around his wrists and ankles. With his huge black plate armor, this new look was somewhat excessive, but none of the people present were in the mood to laugh.
Whether it was the refugees, the powerful Evolvers, or the goblin Digestors, they all immediately stopped fighting, their bodies shaking with unspeakable dread. The terrified refugees who had fled to Shaktilar and his men lost control of their muscles and sphincters, and a stench filled the hall, adding to the smell of blood and guts.
