"Guys, we need to start now before Lord Fein and the monster starts their fight!" Ren, Takashi, and Luna sprang into action, their eyes scanning the scene with a sense of urgency. They knew that their focus had to shift from the impending battle to the safety of the people caught in the crossfire.
Ren's voice boomed over the clamor, commanding attention and instilling a sense of urgency in those around him. "Listen up, everyone!" he called out, his voice laced with concern. "We need to get out of here, and fast! Fein and that blood-filled monster are about to unleash hell, and we don't want to be caught in the middle!"
"We will follow you!" A relatively small figure with white hair, wrinkled forehead, and brown complexion old man shouted from the crowd of people.
Another one in the crowd, a muscular guy with stick on top of his ears followed. "Yes, our lives depends on you! Those who dare to cause trouble will be kick out from the group!"
A ripple of command spread through the crowd, mingling with the cries of unwillingness and confusion. Ren's words struck a chord, and people began to move, some stumbling, others scrambling to gather their loved ones and find a way to safety.
Takashi and Luna, their faces etched with determination, sprang into action, herding the wounded, the soldiers, and the innocent bystanders away from the epicenter of the impending catastrophe. They formed a human shield, guiding the vulnerable with a firm yet gentle touch.
Luna's gaze, filled with compassion, met the frightened eyes of the injured. Her silent reassurance spoke volumes, providing solace amidst the chaos. Takashi, his muscles taut with resolve, took charge, his every step exuding a protective aura.
"Move, move, move!" Takashi barked, his voice cutting through the confusion like a whip. He guided the wounded with a steady hand, supporting those who struggled to keep up, his presence a source of strength in the face of uncertainty.
Ren's voice, laced with urgency, echoed through the chaos. "Stick together, follow us!" he shouted, his voice projecting authority and determination. The crowd, their faces etched with fear and determination, clung to his words as if their lives depended on it.
Amidst the pandemonium, the clash of titanic forces reverberated, rattling the very foundations of the city. Each tremor sent shockwaves through the crowd, a stark reminder of the impending danger that loomed overhead.
"Stay close!" Luna called out, her voice steady despite the turmoil. "We're almost there. Just keep moving!"
The group pressed forward, their footsteps a chorus of urgency. Tears mingled with sweat on the faces of those fleeing, their expressions a mix of fear, determination, and a glimmer of hope. Luna and Takashi, their own hearts heavy with the weight of responsibility, pushed forward with unwavering resolve.
As they distanced themselves from the epicenter of the impending clash, the sounds of destruction became a distant echo, replaced by the collective panting and gasping for breath. The urgency remained palpable, pushing them onward, their shared mission of survival driving them forward.
Ren's voice cut through the noise, infused with a mix of desperation and determination. "Keep going, we're almost there!" he urged, his words a lifeline of hope in the chaos.
The procession of evacuees forged ahead, their desire to live overpowering the fear that threatened to consume them. With each step, they moved closer to safety, guided by the presence of Ren, Takashi, and Luna.
...
As the anticipation reached its peak, the atmosphere became more and more heavy. Fein, his long white hair billowing in an unseen breeze, raised his hand with a graceful fluidity. Dark blue energy radiated from his fingertips, swirling and pulsating with an otherworldly power. A hushed silence fell upon the battlefield, the eye of the monster trained on Fein as he muttered the name of his spell, "Excavula."
In that instant, the air itself seemed to hold its breath. The usual flow of wind ceased, leaving a stillness that was both eerie and captivating. The blood-filled monster, its curiosity piqued, broke the silence. "What's happening? How can you use magic!? Only demons should be able to use magic power!"
The blood-filled monster instinctively raised its hands, feeling a strange unease creeping through its veins. Its limbs trembled, a subtle indication of the growing unease that coursed within. Doubt flickered in its eyes, as if a seed of realization had taken root.
"Who said only demons could use magic power?" A small smirk was playing on the corner of Fein's lips.
"Let me explain it to your small head." Fein's voice cut through the silence, his words carrying a weight of knowledge and power. "Excavula," he enunciated, the syllables hanging in the air like an incantation. "An SS-rank spell that my master taught me, capable of restraining compression of mass."
"Don't fuck with me!" The blood-filled monster scoffed, its defiance tinged with disbelief. It refused to acknowledge to the idea that any magic could control its immense power. Yet, a flicker of uncertainty played across its features, a hint of apprehension that it struggled to suppress. The aloofness it had from before was nowhere to be seen.
Undeterred, Fein continued, his voice steady and unwavering. "You see, Excavula harnesses the fundamental forces of nature," he explained, his words bearing the weight of ancient wisdom. "It disrupts the very flow of energy, restraining creatures that carries large compression of mass."
While explaining, Fein extended his hand once more, the aura of dark blue energy intensifying around him. The air around literally stopped moving, causing the blood-filled monster to involuntarily recoil. It was as if the space itself quivered under Fein's command.
"This," Fein declared, his voice commanding attention, "is but one facet of Excavula's power. This spell is the combination of space and compression."
The blood-filled monster struggled against the invisible restraints, its movements hindered by an unseen force. It was confronted with the undeniable truth of Fein's words, the realization dawning upon it like a cold wave crashing over its being.
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