There was no doubt anymore ..
The Witch's Game had delivered its verdict.
And to call it a "game" would be a mistake. It was a massacre ..One that toyed with the lives of a young generation burdened with the weight of great expectations.
Among the players on the side of the Ultras ..
Gavid Lindman sat quietly, now wearing a pristine white suit. His body had recovered from the wounds he sustained during the battle against Astaroth.
His cold eyes were fixed on the young challengers who had just appeared before him out of nowhere.
The Lord of the Ultras muttered,
"Why did I even agree to take part in this ridiculous game?"
Lindman had originally planned to eliminate the Elite Class in one swift stroke. But due to a certain agreement with Beatrice, he found himself forced to participate ..
As a mere player, following the whims of a witch.
He moved toward the designated battlefield given to him and waited patiently for his opponent…
