The darkness hadn't extinguished them. It hadn't even slowed them. His concept—his proud, perfected 4th level darkness—was ignored as though it were nothing. The black and purple flames consumed the shadows hungrily, feasting on them and growing even stronger.
Moro shrieked, his voice raw, desperate, animalistic. "MASTER BALLION! HELP ME!"
Ballion's face twisted. He tried again, pouring more power into his darkness, wrapping layers upon layers around Moro's form. But the result was the same—every strand of darkness dissolved instantly, feeding the inferno until Moro's figure was nothing but a blazing silhouette.
"No… this is impossible…" Ballion muttered, his crimson eyes widening in shock. "My concept… can't put it out?!" He forced more darkness forward, frantic now. Again. And again. But each attempt failed. The flames ignored him utterly, as if his power didn't even exist.
