Ilysov saw a fraction of a house floating gently in the air.
Standing on it was an exceptionally handsome man. His gaze was sharp and determined, giving him an ethereal air, as if he stood aloof from the rest of the world. His uniform was soaked in blood and sweat; he was the very picture of a fine Warrior who had clawed his way out of a horde of monsters. For a moment, Ilysov didn't realize that beneath Richard's feet were numerous "Boatmen" casting the Floating Skill.
"Help! Help me!"
Fate was a curious thing. His ritual had been on the verge of success when a lump of some unknown blue object suddenly fell from the sky, nearly piercing the ground. The subsequent explosion and shockwave cost him many of his generals, who had been transformed into Flesh Monsters, and blew the turret of the Mage Tower where he was hiding to smithereens.
