Sylas led the group forward, cutting through the creeping mist with ease. Though the writhing fog seemed as if it would swallow them whole, it posed no real threat to him.
"Hah!"
With each swing of his sword, the mist burst into flames and retreated. The mist that had been closing in on the group also pulled back in fear, as if the fire from Sylas's sword could ignite it like a chain reaction.
"Oooh!"
"It's truly the holy sword!"
The group followed behind Sylas in awe. However, as they progressed, a voice like nails scraping metal echoed from beyond the mist.
—How amusing, a child prancing about with a sword as if it could save you all, sneered the demon who had mimicked the guards earlier. Its voice dripped with mockery as it addressed the group.