"No bait is needed. He's already out." Natasha was smiling in the telepathic bond, obviously making fun of Lucien's 'prophecy.'
Ell was still wearing a crown of olive flowers and a white robe, but he appeared more hallow and tranquil. Holy light was vaguely flowing on his skin, and seven floors of Mountain Paradise were reflected in his eyes, making him even more sacred and solemn.
Holding a longsword as dark as ink, he lunged at the two of them. Stinky, decayed fluids were dropping from the sword, only to be absorbed again by a mysterious force in circulation.
