At this, Eden looked up at Moros, her eyes shining with trust and encouragement.
"I believe that whether it's these innocent audience members or our companions from Moth to Fire, they all have the right to know the truth and the right to choose their own memories."
Gazing into Eden's eyes, the necromancer read the unquestionable resolve and persistence within them.
"Very well. Since you've made up your mind, I'll do as you wish."
With that, Moros casually waved his hand, dispelling the Level Three Dark Magic—Mind Control—that had shrouded the concert's inner audience and the Moth to Fire members.
As the spell was lifted, everyone seemed to awaken from a long dream, gradually regaining control over their bodies.
Their eyes shifted from confusion to clarity, but then an indescribable emotion spread through the crowd.
It was an instinctive fear of unknown power, especially now that they realized their thoughts and actions had been controlled by a powerful being only moments ago.
Thus, as if by agreement, they all focused their gazes on the necromancer standing onstage, their eyes filled with both shock and fear.
Moros showed no surprise at such a reaction.
His expression was as calm as still water, as though he had expected it all along.
There was nothing strange about it.
Faced with a power capable of effortlessly controlling one's mind, who could remain completely calm and fearless?
Yet amid this tense and complicated atmosphere, whenever their gazes happened to pass over Eden, warmth rose uncontrollably in their hearts.
It was profound gratitude toward Eden.
Indeed, the Dark Magic known as Mind Control had taken root in their minds, mercilessly robbing them of their autonomy.
Even so, these audience members and Moth to Fire personnel could still vaguely recall fragments of the time when they had