The sound of spells raining down from high up filled the air. Metal clashed again chitinous shells, and the screams of the wounded filled the air. The stench of death and decay was upon them, lingering in the air.
Despite the horde of monsters appearing seemingly out of nowhere, they still found some moments of silence. Though even those moments were filled with bright explosions of light.
"How many rifts has it been by now?" Uria asked during one of those moments of respite. Her question was directed at the Madam, as Aether was no longer speaking much.
