Thick smoke billowed above a small village on the outskirts of Nottingham Forest in the East Midlands of England. Black Fiendfyre devoured everything in its path like the Grim. Amidst the black mist, a pale white mask looked completely out of place.
No shouts or cries for help could be heard, only the endless, sharp crackle of the flames consuming objects, as if every living thing in the world had vanished in an instant. Thestral stood beside a low, collapsed wooden shack. The mound of earth before her showed signs of having been disturbed. It rose high, as if something was buried within it. An old, long-barreled hunting rifle lay placed in front of the mound.
Muffled by the mask she wore, her voice sounded unreal. A sigh escaped from behind the mask: "It was I who left your remains out in the wild back then. Had I not done so, perhaps you would not have had to experience death once more."
Chapter 104