As if to prove Gela's point, just then, a group of four heavily armored adventurers stomped past them, dragging a chain-link sled piled high with glowing, twitching monster parts.
"Gold! We're swimming in it, boys!"
The lead mercenary yelled, his voice booming with reckless glee.
"Look at this haul! If these mana distortions keep pumping out monsters this fast, we'll be retired by winter! Keep the purple storms raging, keep the gold flowing!"
Their laughter echoed off the twisted, barren landscape before fading around a distant bend, swallowed by the oppressive silence of the nightmare that surrounded them.
Lita's face twisted into a mask of pure disdain. She leaned close to the group, lowering her voice to a barely audible whisper, her eyes darting to make sure Erwin didn't catch the full gravity of her suspicion.
"Idiots. They're celebrating the end of the world. They think it's a gold mine. They have no idea what these distortions actually are…"
"Lita? What do you mean?"
