As the dark aura enveloped the Mourning Curator, the battlefield began to fill with a haunting melody as several shadows twisted and writhed around the swordsmen, a final testament to the spirit’s enduring power.
“Secret Technique: Malevolent Ancestral Ensnarement!”
The ground beneath them trembled slightly as mist swirled back into existence, amalgamating into numerous figures–this time not as an enemy, but as an apparition cloaked in sorrow.
Moreover, ethereal ringlets emerged from the depths of the underworld, intertwining with the souls of the departed. These wraithlike strands became extensions of the Mourning Curator’s will, had he controlled and commanded the spirits for their own malevolent purposes.