The spirits continued to crowd around Morvane, their cries growing louder and more frantic. Their ghostly forms flickered and twisted in the dim moonlight, some appearing calm but desperate, while others began to take on an aggressive and distorted appearance.
Drevon leaned casually against a nearby tree, a smug grin on his face. "Look at this, Morvane. So many spirits, all seeking your help. Do you really think you can handle this? Hahaha!"
Morvane shot him a glare, his frustration and fear evident. "This isn't funny, Drevon! Some of them are turning hostile!"
With a laugh, Drevon pushed off the tree and leapt effortlessly onto a low-hanging branch, perching like a crow surveying the chaos below. He cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted again, his voice echoing through the cemetery. "Alright, spirits! You've got two options: let Morvane help you, or if you're too far gone, FIGHT HIM!"
