The Dark Spirit Beach is covered with uneven rubble and sticky sewage, immersed in a perpetually oppressive bluish-gray. But now, the sewage has taken on a crimson hue, and broken limbs and remnants are crushed against the rocks. The sky is so ominous it seems about to squeeze out water, with fighting soldiers, neighing warhorses, and the swirling black mist and white light from mages' staffs creating a grand and savage scene.
In the midst of this scene, only he and she stand bright.
Pale golden threads wrapped around Elrian, only to be severed by his reverse grip. The howling sword energy cleaved towards Roy, but shattered upon the silver-white blade's tip.
They clashed.
Power collided with power, magic entangled with magic.
The broken golden threads turned into specks of light, and dancing blood rays wove into a ghastly net.
