Enel Is Evil
The orbs swirled and shimmered, merging and shaping until a revolver materialized, gleaming with an otherworldly light.
Its barrel was gilded in gold, etched with intricate silver runes that glowed faintly, and engraved along its body was Narina's face, forever frozen in a contorted expression of agony—eyes wide, mouth open in a silent scream.
The crowd collectively gasped, horrified and spellbound. Murmurs erupted, some questioning if what they'd witnessed was creation magic. But Enel's feat went far beyond mere magic—it was the product of soul runes, used in a dark and mentally forbidden craft.
He had extracted Narina's very soul, dismantling her essence and weaving it together with his blood as a binding thread, fashioning her spirit into a weapon, a fate worse than death.
The Queen paled, her hand flying to her mouth in shock. For the soul was meant to pass on, judged by Lady Death herself and directed to heaven, hell, or the wheel of rebirth.