Grinning with savagery, Volk brought both hands up to tear Song Woo-Ji apart.
Kecheeerrkk!
The red mist and Volk's grip were creating an intense clashing sound.
Bong Me-Eon's heart clenched with terror; she could feel it in her bones—this was the end.
But they wouldn't let it end like this.
Not without a fight.
The grandmaster raised her hands, her voice commanding as she began a low, ancient chant, the words spilling out with practiced precision, each syllable vibrating with necromantic force.
"Through the shadows of decay, the bones of the fallen, let the spirits rise, let the dead awaken! Bind his will! Trap his soul!"
Bong Me-Eon joined in, her voice shaking at first but soon finding strength, matching the grandmaster's tone with a fierce intensity.
"By the power of darkness, the essence of death, we call upon the void to swallow his strength! Entangle his wrath, shackle his spirit!"
