Destruction.
The horizon of Wolfsheim, once a beautiful coastal city and such a captivating place, is now filled with fire, screams of terror and bloodied corpses. Once the undead horde began their advance, the sky turned black, and the sea became corrupted from their dark aura.
Asura's figure blurred between the huge bone battleships, his blade and wings fluttering to avoid their magic and aggression.
'Damn it!'
An undead lich flicked his finger, creating a black bolt that glowed with a dull green glow.
Like a shooting star, it shot towards Asura's heart. The lich stared at him with dull eye sockets flickering with blue flames as if laughing at him. Asura's body darted around the sky as if trying to avoid the green tracing light, flapping his wings as the bolt of dark energy followed him.
"Helia!"
"I'm here!"
A blast of white flames, like a cloud of mist, spread from her palm, devouring the dark bolt.
