The world quaked and shook as the Cursed Tyrant and the Sacred shade clashed. The immense vastness of Condemnation was straining against the colossal pillars of black silk that bound its limbs, while the Puppeteer straddled its chest, reaching for the giant's face.
It seemed to have the upper hand at the moment, but the shadow of Condemnation was already retaliating. Even if it could not break the countless strands of silk, it had already started… assimilating them.
Everything that touched Condemnation was condemned to become a part of it, and the black silk was no exception.
But was the Puppeteer an exception?
Sunny did not know, and he did not have time to observe the battle between the Tyrants — one living, one dead — closely.
Because his only chance to free himself from the invisible strings cast by the Puppeteer was now, while the accursed moth was distracted by the shadow of Condemnation.
Sadly…
