Every feather burns with a tranquil black fire.
They drift lightly onto the battlefield strewn with flesh, like an early snowfall heralding the last funeral for this land of death.
Yet—
That was not a merciful snowfall.
They didn't come to bury death and sin but to transform them into roaring flames, burning them once more!
Countless black light feathers fell upon the writhing mountain of flesh.
With no hindrance, the black feathers emitted a teeth-grinding sizzle upon contact with the crystal tumor!
That was the sound of metal corroding!
They were like countless resurrected souls, burrowing into Mork's body through the wounds, not only scorching the corpulent flesh but also tearing apart his mottled, greedy soul.
"Aah—!"
Mork's massive figure convulsed violently, emitting a scream hundredfold more shrill than when his limbs were severed earlier.
