In the sky above the city, over the Melian family's mansion, hundreds upon hundreds of fireflies floated, which from a distance looked like living stars to the townspeople who, for a few moments, could look up and admire the sight in awe.
"(Interesting… To summon that many spirits, this must be his last attempt… But I won't be able to dodge all of that… I guess I don't have many options either)" the assassin thought as he clenched his jaw, carefully measuring the situation closing in on him.
Without wasting time, Sifhon removed his mask, revealing beneath it an aged, pale face full of scars and missing one eye. His damaged, twisted skin made him look even more disturbing under the light of the explosions.
Without hesitation, Sifhon began injecting magic through his threads into every egg he still had left, moving his fingers with desperate precision, as if he was no longer fighting to win, but simply to avoid being erased.
