Chapter Eighteen: The Lightning at Your Fingertips

Hastur sat in a chair, lightly tapping on the table. After abiding by the rules he set for himself, he had done all that he could do; everything was now in the hands of these four youngsters.

Hastur looked towards the four intruders and then at the audience that had filled about half of the concert venue, taking a deep breath—even though he didn't need to breathe.

"Don't forget the training from this period. Off you go, the stage is that way," Hastur pulled back the curtain, and the time had come.

"I'm a bit nervous," Angelina glanced at her three companions.

"Me too," Midra fluttered her wings.

"Aria doesn't want to be plucked!" Aria waved her wings, which she had spent a lot of money maintaining!

"Let's go," Pern was calm, taking the lead as she walked out; Hastur had appointed her as the leader of the Wind Moon Band.

According to Hastur, a Necromancer devoid of emotions was most suited to be the leader.