Marrow Replacement

Mading'er Town!

This Wasteland town, which should have been peaceful and harmonious, was gradually nearing destruction. No one had imagined that the tiles embedded atop the Mill would become lethal weapons.

Driven by the hurricane, the tiles were like sharp daggers, smashing heads into bloody pulp.

The chains binding the slaves clanged loudly. These beings, whose souls had been searched and who had already become dull-witted, instinctively tried to evade the storm's assault. Yet their bodies floated uncontrollably in midair while their arms remained jammed fast against the beast pens.

Crack!

The struggle between the two forces had reached its conclusion.

Their arms snapped. Half their bodies remained on the beast pens, flapping like tattered flags in the wind, while the other halves were swept high into the sky, no one knew where.

A nightmare!

The Centaur trembled as he huddled in the underground hollow. He could feel the tiles above his head being peeled away one after another, while the howling hurricane seemed ready to strip his scalp away at any moment.

He had escaped the Elves, only to be unable to escape the hurricane that had suddenly appeared.

"Flame Shield!"

A peculiar blaze-red color appeared within the hurricane. It was a group of Fire Elves who had not left. They raised their wands high, and countless bright-red currents poured above their heads, forming a protective barrier.

It became a temporary shelter.

But as the hurricane tore at the barrier, it scattered a chain of sparks. Cracks soon appeared in this temporary refuge, and even these powerful Elves had faces drained of color.

They stared blankly at the ever-worsening storm, unable to understand how it had appeared.

Some had already begun coughing up blood, yet they did not dare stop channeling their magic.

They were frantically overtaxing their Magic