The Spine Wheel raced through the woods, with Raphael bathed in light, following leisurely behind. Ever since just a moment ago, the number of creatures hanging from the strange wheel had been increasing—they were calling for reinforcements, no doubt. Raphael set down the Wenditegon he had been charging in his hand. Call more, he thought; to annihilate one was to annihilate, to annihilate a group was also to annihilate. To purify so much evil at once was indeed an effortless task.
Raphael had never considered the possibility of defeat, for he had been invincible in the outside world for quite some time.
On the Spine Wheel, the Plague Doctor, the three Literary Society members, and Veraliz had already discussed their plan.
"Very well, our plan is meticulous and refined. Come on, comrades, we can definitely make it out alive!"
