The body of the Withmare was nailed to the ground, the back of its head had been eaten away by corrosive sap, its blood and viscera painted the brown soil.
And yet, every single Squire summoned their weapons and turned them on the six-armed creature.
Its arms twitched first. Then its chest rose, or at least tried to. Its lungs tried to draw breath but were punctured by Lucen's silver spear.
The forest grew silent as its hand reached up and grabbed the spear. All the Squires stopped breathing, and the distant noise of life faded.
Lucen's heart pounded as he watched the mana move through the Withmare's soul. It was a purplish-black mana that reached through the Withmare's fingers to steal life from the plants.
"Hither, burn everything around it," Lucen ordered quickly.
Hither didn't need more encouragement. A red ball of flame crackled to life in between his two hands. Hither sent the fireball sailing towards the Withmare's corpse, the forest shook with a resounding blast.
