Flaaash!
The formations burst into light all at once.
High above their heads, golden arrays exhaled an ominous aura. Faces of those forced to their knees by an intangible power twisted with fear.
The rain stopped. In its place came a downpour of rays. Magic circles in the air spun their hexagram bodies and poured straight down as they were.
“Don’t come—get away! Aaagh!”
Shrinking themselves, the arrays flew toward the traitors. They stamped onto foreheads like brands. The pain…
…doesn’t—exist?
Those who’d been screaming preemptively now wore puzzled faces. Watching, Gyeon Jioh let out a thin snort.
“Told you I wouldn’t let you die pretty.”
What on earth is he going to do? Faces that looked like they’d rather just faint.
Jioh looked over toward Choi Dawit.
His hair was a bird’s nest, his nails worn down and broken to nothing, not a single spot on him left whole.
“…I don’t do forgiveness. No religion, and my character’s in the gutter.”
Instead, when it comes to collecting the “price,”…