"Huh?"
Beneath the hopeless gray skies, in one of the ridges of an ashen, windswept mountain, four wretches stood frozen, eyes wide, mouths agape.
"Huh? No…there's just no way that–"
Caleb, Lesha, and Gris would've spoken, too, had they had words to say.
Only Daru, who seemed to be in extreme shock and bewilderment, managed to mutter a few.
He did not want to believe what was happening before him.
Saphoros was gasping for air, torn apart in two uneven parts after the spinning cross-slash of Crescent Dicer passed through him, his dying wails echoing throughout the Altar Mountain.
Only for a moment, though, as, in the next, even his pitiful last breath left him.
The nightmarish ghoul twitched for a few moments, then stopped moving completely.
Daru would never have believed what happened, had it not been for the notification that appeared in front of him:
[You have slain Saphoros, Regal Thrall of the Sinful Blossom Lv. 61]
[You have obtained 115,210 experience points.]
