The dark fog of negative energy is rapidly dissipating.
Behind the fog, Furinjira Veges is struggling to dig out her legs, which have already been crushed by dirt.
At this moment, unlike most of the warlocks from the south, this carefully groomed female warlock has dirt-covered hands, her meticulously manicured nails turned upwards from digging, and cold sweat flows from her forehead like pouring water, smudging her eyeshadow and face cream.
Within that soon-to-disappear dark fog, a long knife gleaming with a warm golden light 'whoosh' flies out from inside.
The blade of the long knife penetrates Furinjira's right shoulder as if it were slicing through butter, pinning her to the ground.
The female warlock grits her teeth, letting out a dying-like groan, with veins bulging on her temple.
But she dares not move an inch.
The Lady of the Lake's Sword, a divine-made armament, is too sharp.
