Isaac's words seemed to attract not the slightest attention.
A flicker of flame danced in those pitch-black eyes. A sea of bones, black flags, and purple Crystal Clusters spreading across the sky like a tide; lightning descending from the clouds; one or two streaks of fire cutting across the heavens—the distant battlefield was reflected deep within those cold, emotionless eyes.
She turned around.
She extended a pale, slender fingertip. The Mercury Staff was clasped in that hand, and her finger pointed in one direction.
There was no command.
But behind her, the Undead Lords all pressed their withered, bone-like palms against their chests. Soul Fire burned fiercely within them, while the Dark Nobles lowered their heads like a tide, waves rippling backward from the front.
They turned around, pale flames flickering within their eye sockets.
The Madara commanders in the rear understood at once. They turned around one after another, opened their empty jaws, and waved their bone-covered fists as they roared at the Liches and Undead Wizard Apprentices:
"Let those softlings from Balakirevo enter the field. Tell them this: for the eternal repose of the dead, long live Bramanto's Black Rose!"
"The Black Rose never withers!"
The messengers' shouts rose and fell across the battlefield.
The lower- and mid-ranking Liches and Undead Wizard Apprentices hurried back. Some even stumbled and fell along the way, but under the urging of the undead overseers, those unlucky wretches immediately scrambled back up on all fours and ran toward several enormous Crystal Towers behind the high platform.
One after another, the Liches and Undead Wizard Apprentices placed their hands on the Crystal Towers. Green ripples immediately stretched upward along the spindle-shaped main crystals, which rose twenty or thirty meters high. When the ripples reached the tower tops supported by white-bone foundations, they instantly