Dark mist and shadows intertwined with the ghastly visages of the vengeful spirits as the cursed enchantments on the weapons took hold. With each strike, a spirit's soul was bound, their freedom extinguished.
In the ensuing bloodless carnage, only the agonizing screams of the spirits, mourning their lost liberty, pierced the dark alleys and leafy canopy. Wind and decaying leaves swirled in a frenzy as the shadow morphs mercilessly enslaved their victims.
Albert, the orchestrator of this scene, stood by with a smirk, reveling in the sight of his enemies' subjugation. He longed to unleash a triumphant laugh at their pitiful state but restrained himself, fearing it might further tarnish his image in his lord's eyes. He didn't want to incur his lord's ire or his suspicion, so he kept his satisfaction within what he considered moderation.
