What they endured during the inaugural hours of the labor diurnal cycle within the mine sufficed to enrage the hulking disciple of the Fifteenth Ward. Confronted with the peril of demise for the second consecutive instance, he had opted to assault in lieu of retreating, and this primal reflex would salvage them from a monumental tribulation.
"Strike, strike, keep going!"
"Come on, boys! Let's put in some labor ourselves!"
"Die, you little whoresons!"
The final mortal to speak was Sam, and when he mimicked his muscular comrade, the alternate twin disciples commenced laughing, yet the pickaxes into which they channeled their Elemental Energies had commenced their labor. The disciple wielding the Earth Element—who executed the inaugural assault upon the crystals whose nature essence had been assimilated—retreated a solitary stride. Beholding his comrades shattering the matte stones with their pickaxes, he savored a delayed grin.
