Even after its head had been severed, the wraith remained a formidable entity, its unnatural resilience a testament to its undead nature. It twitched and shuddered, surrounded by a black aura that thrummed with the power of the Wailing Spirits' Evil Array. The Banshee, filled with rage and desperation, funnelled all her remaining strength into the array, directing her malevolent energy toward the fallen creature. This spark of dark magic surged and coalesced, causing the wraith's head to bob and its body to convulse, desperately attempting to reattach itself.
August, however, refused to stand idly by and allow the wraith to regenerate. He clenched his fists tightly.
The air around him crackled with energy as he gestured in a fluid, sweeping motion, invoking the powerful incantation.
"Cloud Prison Vortex!"
