"Yes!!!"
Their earthshaking roar surged toward the eerie green sky, a torrent of greed and longing.
This was no longer a request or a prayer. It was a demand.
As if answering their desire, the churning green mist in the sky suddenly descended.
It condensed into countless thin, sticky green tendrils that lunged unerringly at everyone below, as though they were alive.
"It's here! The power is here!"
Jackson spread his arms in ecstasy, welcoming the oncoming mist.
The tendrils passed through clothing and skin alike, burrowing straight into the players' bodies.
There was no Holy Flame like the one that had accompanied Leon's ascension, nor the agony of a soul being burned. There was only an indescribable emptiness.
Everyone felt something taking root in the darkest corner of their hearts.
It was envy.
Envy of the Yan Country players, envy of Adams and his fellow prisoners, envy of every powerful person in the world.
The green tendrils greedily fed on those feelings. In return, a cold, sinister power poured back into their bodies.
"Ah..."
The one-armed warrior groaned, not in pain, but in sickly pleasure.
He felt the green power gathering at his empty right shoulder, as if countless ants were gnawing there.
His gaze drifted uncontrollably to an uninjured warrior beside him.
He stared at the man's intact, muscular right arm, longing almost tangible in his eyes.
Why do you still have your arm?!
Why did I have to lose mine?!
The moment that thought arose, the green power inside him ran wild.
A phantom green claw reached out from his shoulder and seized his companion's arm.
"What are you—"
The uninjured warrior barely managed a cry before he watched his right arm shrivel. Its skin lost its luster, its muscles wasted away, and it became a length