The Black Rains

A‌ ‌terrifying‌ ‌roar‌ trembled the skies.

The‌ rains had caused half of the city to be submerged under the lethal waters. The black surface eerily gleamed under the light of distant rift and rippled beneath the faint drizzle.

A few remaining ghosts scurried across the waters, holding desperately to their runes.

The ghost lord was sitting outside an old shrine. His face was pale as he quietly said.

"Thank you for your help."

"You need to rest," Ezrahl indifferently replied as he stared at the dull glow of the rift.

The Ghost Lord nodded.

He had burned through his spiritual energy too much to force the ghouls back inside the rift.

They will not be able to pass through again for the time being.

Ezrahl supported him silently as he brought him inside the shrine.

The few ghosts inside watched with mixed emotions behind their gazes. They were all different from any normal ghost.