"Zephys naleth korvain du'math..." (Let the truth illuminate their blind eyes)
As the spell and ritual progressed, the witch's appearance had undergone a terrifying transformation:
Golden hair turned into an eerie silvery white, floating in the air like silk threads;
Her skin took on an unnatural grayish-white hue, with patterns resembling scales spread across the surface;
Her eyes turned deep purple, with pupils contracting vertically like those of a feline;
The most terrifying aspect was her smile.
A look of satisfaction and ecstasy, as if savoring the most delicious delicacy in the world.
"Allen..."
Sarlin's voice was no longer of human tone:
"You've finally come, I've been waiting for you."
Allen gripped the magic wand tightly, trying to suppress inner pain:
"Sarlin, this isn't you, the real you would never become like this."
"This isn't me?"
Sarlin's laughter was filled with mockery:
"No, Allen. This is the real me.
