"Master, are you sure that pig of a mage can drive those Magisterians toward us?" a purple-haired female asked, standing near the older mage, who was clearly the master of both her and Barok. Her mage robes marked her as a member of the cult's combatant arm.
Her master, the older mage, was third-in-command of the cult's mage combatant arm, the Abyssal Hands, and rumored to be the son of Charles Morvain, the Artistic Butcher, one of the cult's leaders. An astral-ranked mage, he specialized in blood and flesh magic, just like his own master. Though his true name was unknown, everyone called him the Flesh Mender. "Don't worry," he said with a sly grin, "I gave him some of my creations to make it happen. They might not defeat that monster of a Seventh Circle Warrior, but they'll sure as hell scare the weaker ones into runnin' back here. Even the stronger ones can't hold out against a swarm of 'em…"
