On the other side of the battlefield, Megaera's response was just as mesmerizing, albeit in an entirely different fashion.
The air around her rippled, coiling into forms that exuded an air of chilling allure.
Emerging from this ghoulish whirl was the specter of a Nightshade, its form sinister in its stark opposition to the celestial Hou-Ou.
It sprouted in grotesque beauty, as dark flowers blossomed with a raven's gleam.
Their petals, glossy as the lid of a coffin, unfurled to disperse a poisonous black vapor that made the very atmosphere convulse in dread.
Megaera's skin, pale as the belly of the moon, was made grotesque by the black tendrils that wove their fractal designs across her form.
They throbbed in a sickly rhythm, a silent dirge that spoke of an insidious heartbeat within.
