The wind cracked around them as Claude took a sharp turn mid-air, avoiding another spectral claw.
The screeching ghosts zipped through the air, moaning with the voices of those long dead. Their faces twisted in pain, their mouths frozen open in endless cries.
"Sun, you go after the spectrals! Vulture, take the sword!" Claude barked, voice sharp like a blade.
"I'll hold Osias down until that damned giant can't even twitch!"
He'd had enough of restraint and gentleness. Now was the time to crush.
"Use all your power! Don't hold back—even if you have to kill him!"
Sun turned into a blur of motion, electricity crackling across his limbs as he dashed toward the spectral, leaving trails of lightning behind.
The clone copies he summoned moved like lightning, curling through the air and shocking the ghostly figures into ash.
Their cries didn't stop—just faded into a distance, like old echoes bouncing off walls.
