Count Brand let out a piercing shriek that grew closer and closer. A black shadow, flapping its wings, flew wretchedly out from the depths of the ruins.
When it saw Arthur standing in the same spot, it looked puzzled at first, but then a gleam of delight shone in its beady little eyes. "GAH HA HA HA! I knew it! My loyal follower would never abandon me."
It landed swiftly on Arthur's shoulder and cowered behind his head, pointing into the deep darkness with its wingtip. Its voice trembled. "Arthur, quick! My sworn enemy is coming!"
Arthur subconsciously reached for the sword hilt at his waist, only to find nothing there. He remembered that he was currently just an illusory figure, with no weapon.
In the darkness ahead, a colossal, terrifying shadow gradually emerged from behind the silhouette of a dilapidated hall.
They had no fixed shape, as if condensed from the purest darkness and malice. Their very existence exuded a suffocating, intimidating aura.
