"Fire dragon, return to your position!"
The blacksmith endured a massive amount of damage, shouting angrily, "Leave none behind, sacrifice them all!"
"Swish, swish, swish!"
The mirror beneath his feet shattered, and the altar slowly rose. Dozens of blood-red stone pillars emerged, and with a command from the blacksmith, each pillar emitted a violent suction, creating chaos in the air currents of this space.
The tribespeople found it too late to escape; no matter how they struggled, they couldn't break free from the grip of the suction. They were all sucked onto the stone pillars, embedded within them, becoming living specimens with terror-stricken expressions frozen on their faces. Combined with their desperate, struggling movements, it was nothing short of horrific, as if they had entered the eighteenth level of Hell, utterly tragic.
