"No, no..." the mercenaries groaned in agony on the ground, and at the brink of life's final moment, their greatest wish was to deny it all. They sad and greedily savoring the last moments of life, cherishing every precious second of breath.
The merciless nature's executioner followed behind, vines wrapping around their necks, hoisting and dragging them away. The vines tightened their grip along the way until the mercenaries suffocated.
The bodies of these mercenaries would hang evenly at the edge of the majestic forest, subjected to the wind and sun, becoming food for crows and maggots. Their decaying, rotting appearance would serve as a warning to any who followed, urging them to think twice before stepping into this protected land.
"Beautiful." Farosa emerged from the depths of the night forest, approaching the bloody slaughterhouse. The stinging smell of gasoline, reminiscent of those failed creations from the alchemy workshop, wafted up from the ground.
