There was not a single person present in the expansive garden who didn't hear those words.
They sounded like the call of the reaper, as though death had come knocking, wanting to collect life.
As soon as those words sounded, words alone could not do justice to the events that followed.
None of the students, not even the third years, saw how it had happened.
It seemed like a blip, as though time had suddenly became a confusing concept.
There was no grandiose display, nor was there anything flashy.
At one instant, each of the second years had been rushing towards Atticus, each of their weapons at hand, clearly ready to attack,
In the next moment, the space between their limbs and torsos appeared to distort, causing each limb to abruptly detach from their bodies.
It went without saying that the amount of blood that fell from the sky was staggering.
