An explosion went off in Luke's head, his will crumbling as he saw the wolf transform into the Werewolf King. His surroundings dimmed, every lingering trace of light getting snuffed out as surely as if the radiance was only an illusion.
And when the last glimmer of light vanished, the darkness settled in.
"In the end, I can only use force!" The hoarse whisper was full of pain, reluctance, and madness.
Black smoke flew out of his seven orifices and covered his figure, enveloping him in a giant black mushroom cloud.
Throwing his head back, Luke howled with despair.
"Ahhhhh!"
Boom!
The ear-shattering cry resounded throughout the green fog, urging the procrastinating shadows.
Within the span of a few heartbeats, a giant storm of dark shadows engulfed the center region of the Soul Sundering Pit, encircling the two entangled figures.
Ramose and Versailles raised their head in unison, an indifferent expression on their faces.
