The night wind blew through the silent scene.
The other Wizards present were stunned by what they had seen, momentarily forgetting to keep attacking.
The players were equally dumbstruck. They had not even noticed that the sealing barrier overhead had vanished.
A level-20 Wizard killed in under two seconds-just who were these two?
"Anthony Vivian... Impossible. You can't be her..."
The White-Robed One was still wavering. Realizing that his Staff was gone, he hurriedly raised another Magic Wand and shakily aimed it at the two opposite him, all bluster and no courage.
Red clothes, a scythe, that familiar Phantom Scepter, and that crow... There was no mistake. This was the Witch of Calamity who had brought a little girl carrying a scythe and fought her way into their headquarters two hundred years ago!
The difference was that she had had ten other Dark Wizards beside her then. Now, only these two remained.
What the White-Robed One could not understand was that they had clearly confirmed her death. Why had she appeared again?
Not far behind him, the resurrected Black-Robed Man was equally bewildered. He had dared charge straight in partly because he trusted his own strength, and partly because their people were everywhere. Even if something went wrong, plenty of people could come to his rescue.
Yet he had never imagined he would be killed so easily, as though someone had casually swatted a passing fly.
Only now, hearing that name spoken by the White-Robed One at close range, did the Black-Robed Man stare at the distant woman in shock and blurt out, "Anthony Vivian? That's her?"
The White-Robed One had spoken quietly, and few people had heard him. But that shout carried far, and practically all the surrounding Wizards heard the name.
"Anthony Vivian..."
"She's that..."
"The legendary Witch