"Yes! That's right! In all one hundred predictions I ran, he failed, every time~" another voice filled with deceit and cunning said.
"Oooh... failure, loser, let me dearly, care for you, poor undead mage, come to your old father."
"Failure is also an art, it is a very interesting experience~ Of course, not too much~ Moderation~"
The four supreme wills crazily eroded the mind of the undead grand mage, who clutched his head with both hands and screamed miserably, the wound left by Francois was still bleeding, Kemler's magic staff and bone sword fell to the ground, he screamed hoarsely and rolled on the ground.
The cobwebs, remnants, and dust within the tomb covered Kemler's already dirty robe and hood, the supreme wills watched Kemler's struggle with great interest, as if this amused them.
