Amberser extricated himself from the state of time suspension, his head cradled in the hands of this alabaster-carved beauty, exactly as depicted in the prophecy.
Gazing at this noblewoman before him, then at the formidable Death Knights flanking her, Amberser had already guessed her identity.
"You are... Lady Rose?"
Amberser's tone was somewhat awkward, as he had never imagined he would meet this esteemed patron under such circumstances.
Apparently, the part about having his head plucked off did not mean it was actually removed, but that it had grown back, leaving him with just a head.
Withered Rose smiled as she placed Amberser's head on a table to the side, then extended a finger, touching one of the Death Knights nearby.
Between the fingers of Withered Rose appeared to be a black hole, sucking in the Death Knight, whether it was flesh and blood or armor; everything was crushed and turned into pure dark magic power.
