A terrible howl escaped the woman's withered lips, shaking the ground and stirring the rotten roots into a sudden frenzy.
AaaAAAAaaAaAAaaaaAaaaAA!
Meilyr drew his arm towards himself, sucking the atmospheric Mana his way to bring Alwina and Gal-Enshu closer. "What have you done? It's gone mad."
"A mere reflex," Sosicles sighed, retracting his long axe into its original mold of shadows. "It should calm itself shortly."
Thorn-covered vines lashed out in every direction, as if to mock the Syndic's declaration. He melted into his own shade without care, disappearing in an instant... again.
That's it. He really enjoys doing it. There's no way he doesn't realize how aggravating it is.
Meilyr cursed under his breath while surrounding himself and his comrades with a torrent of pure Mana, driving away the unleashed assault. However, it never ceased, increasing in strength, number, and speed without the slightest sign of weakening.