The CRUNCH, CRUNCH, CRUNCH of tearing limbs and a bloodcurdling "AHH—!" were drowned out.
The mercenaries held their breath instinctively.
Their companion, snatched by the harpies, had been torn into chunks of flesh. An arm, its fingers still twitching, was even tossed back at them.
"Betty, can you hold on?"
"Yes!"
The girl nodded, her hand once again reaching for the small pouch at her waist.
Leech, sitting alone in a corner, also found his gaze drawn to the pouch at her waist.
'And then there was the girl named Betty. She can't die. At the very least, I have to make sure she isn't torn limb from limb.'
Using the same method as before, she struck a wooden stick against the ground, producing a shower of sparks that instantly erupted into a terrifying wave of fire.
