The battlefield was shrouded in a thick, oppressive silence, a silence that felt almost alive as it enveloped the sorcerers who remained. The air, once crackling with energy and determination, now hung heavy with despair. The loss of Poison Edge was a blow that resonated deep within each heart present, extinguishing the flickering flame of hope that had ignited within them just moments before. It was as though a dark shroud of mourning had descended upon them, wrapping tightly around their shoulders, stifling any thoughts of resistance or escape.
Amidst this chilling stillness, a heart-wrenching cry shattered the silence. A young figure, Larcade, fell to his knees, anguish pouring from him like a torrent.
"AHHHH!!!!! MOTHER!!!!"
