The Battle of the Mystic Lock (6): Swinging

Commanding the two swarms of ghosts to rush at the casters and the mad knight like furious bees diving upon mortal enemies, the White-robed Mage roared with what seemed like the ultimate hatred of a suppressed volcano.

"Do you see it, bastards? This is my despair and sorrow! Can you feel it, sinners? This is my rage and pain!"

Surrounded by a host of ghosts, Azterlan wore a savage expression as though he had gone mad. As enormous quantities of magic power surged violently, the wildly dancing spirits also became increasingly frenzied and furious under the influence of the White-robed Mage's emotions.

Very quickly, these fearless spirits split into three distinct groups under the mage's command. The smallest group continued to whirl rapidly around Azterlan, while the other two groups pounced separately toward the grim-faced Punk and the grinning Kane.

At last, the Pale Ghost had unleashed the formidable strength of a level-thirty-five caster.

"...You scoundrels who destroyed my homeland! Never again will you feel the spring-breeze warmth of 'kindness,' because within my storm of spells, you will feel the blazing fury of 'kindness'! For vengeance against evil is also my kindness!"

"Buzz!"

Pale white ghosts formed a magnificent army like a tidal wave. The instant Azterlan viciously swung his staff, they all charged madly like evil spirits crawling out of hell. These sweeping ghost swarms left behind lingering strands of energy in the empty Astral Plane space, yet after winding and converging without any pattern, every strand ultimately gathered at the positions of their enemies. The howling magical ghosts then lunged forward one after another like piranhas that had smelled blood.

In the blink of an eye, that terrifying attack, mighty as the stampede of ten thousand horses, arrived as expected!

"What shameless boasting!"

His gloomy words seemed to