Hiro's face paled. He really couldn't imagine how being stabbed right in the chest with that silver scythe would feel. His heart started to beat much faster and his legs felt weak. He didn't immediately move from where he fell.
"Tch. Missed." The robed man pulled the scythe that had stabbed the layer of snow next to Hiro. However, he didn't seem to have any intention of swinging it again.
"I almost forgot," he muttered before turning around, leaving Hiro on the ground.
The other robed players seemed confused when they saw their leader turn around. Why did he suddenly change his mind?
They secretly speculated inside their minds, but none of them moved.
"Hurry and stand up, slacker!" Spyro had once again perched on Hiro's shoulder and scolded him.
Snapped out of it, Hiro immediately stood up and pulled the greatsword not stuck at his side. He then moved to look at the six remaining robed players one by one, though he didn't manage to catch a glimpse of their faces.
