The snow filling the sky slowly scattered down. Like white cotton, softly and gently.
Amidst the snowy ground, the five people in black had Garen surrounded. The purple crystals in their hands were emitting a faint silver light.
The purple light slowly formed a semi-circular membrane of purple, slowly enveloping Garen in the center as they stretched to merge above the top of his head.
Garen raised his hand, but couldn’t move an inch. Before he had noticed it, many translucent silver strings had penetrated his whole body.
His arms, the backs of his hands, his shoulders, knees, all his joints were being yanked at by those silk threads.
The source of these silk threads was a black-haired woman in front of those people in black.
"Poison again…" The crimson mark on Garen’s brow looked like it was about to drip blood.
