It was as if death came itself.

In front of the behemoth of a wolf, the smell of death – their death – was around the corner. It loomed over the elder witches and elder warlocks. Even with their life experience, the scythe of death hovered over their necks and they could feel its imposing power with their magic.

Gustav was the first one to snap out of their trance. With a wave of his hand, a staff appeared within his grasp. “Surround it”

Superior Ricoz frowned. Like what Gustav did, the others also waved their hands and retrieved their staffs and wands. It had been years since they last...