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Vincent grabbed into the hilt and raised the greatsword up in the air, kindling the stygian lands in the serene hue of the fictitious dawn that had encroached long past its prime.

The lost ones gave out shrill cries. They covered their heads and closed their eyes for the rayless emergence burned upon their unmasked skin. Digging their hands on the soil, they smeared their bodies with dirt and grime, but the attempt proved fruitless in the end.

Black vapours sizzled out from beneath their skin as they rolled on the ground, consigning to convey upon the torment, boiling up inside them when the rays of obscurity devoured them from their essence.

“What about you lot?” Vincent asked the giants, who were backing off towards the tainted forest.

Swoosh! They did not stop their retreat, but instead, a stray boulder was hurled toward him in return.

“Oh well,” Vincent shrugged his shoulders and made a vertical slash with his greatsword.