The might of myths was vast and formidable, clearing away the dense gray fog that obscured the sun. The clouds of dust that rose and the tides of energy that surged like rolling waves also spread out in front of the Oasis.
Many caravans that were preparing to leave had to face a strong wind carrying scraps of grass that howled towards them, and they smacked their lips at the taste, which was dry with a hint of mud.
"Ugh!"
"Grass (an element)! What has happened!"
"The battle of myths has erupted!"
The status of myths was too exalted; even the slightest collateral impact could grievously injure or nearly kill them, causing great fear among many. But alongside this fear, excitement flickered in the eyes of many at witnessing such a monumental event, a spectacle that many might not see once in their lifetime.
Nonetheless, the formidable reputation of the Poison Cloud Master, Youlius, was frightening.
