The White Bone Forest had become much livelier compared to before, and this wasn't just in reference to the crowd in front of Lyle but also to the restless magic power surging through the land. The once deathly quiet White Bone Forest seemed as if someone injected it with rabies beneath its soil; the magic power leaped out like fleas disturbed from the ground. The dense magic power in the air was as uncomfortable as a stinging stench to Lyle, who had lived for a long time in the cold, shadowy Cassandra. He, of course, knew that such dense magic power was beneficial to Spellcasters, but also knew that on such land, a snap of a Spirit Summoner's fingers could cause a horrifying uprising of corpses.