Enshrouded by the dark figure beneath them, an immense sense of oppression and danger eroded the nerves of several magical girls; there was no doubt that everyone could sense the hostility of the newcomer.
Merely facing the master of the shadow from afar, Lin Xiaolu felt her breathing become labored, the magic power around her slowing to a crawl, even her heartbeat started to race, her body tensing as if encountering a natural predator.
Her eyes slightly widened, breathing quickened, she fixated on the distant figure and silently tightened her grip on the magic wand in her hand.
Such tension and apprehension were all too familiar to her; in fact, she had experienced this feeling more than once, which allowed her to easily identify its nature: it was the premonition of facing a lethal threat, of impending death.
The master of the shadow made no move, seemingly observing the magical girls from afar, suspended motionless, like a statue.
