Poppy sneered, "Look at them, Lanny! I'm here talking to you without any guard up, and yet they're all trembling, not daring to attack me!"
He mocked, waving the enormous sand wings that had formed behind him, spanning over five meters.
Wings like those of a withered, dry, sallow butterfly.
"Come on!"
He shouted fearlessly: "Face me! Attack me!
"—Kill me!"
But the players continued to exchange quick glances.
They remained silent, not uttering a word, not firing a shot.
The entire desert continued to rumble incessantly.
As the ground kept cracking and shaking—the sacred blood that had been invoked, slowly began to seep back into it.
"—Wastes."
Poppy scoffed disdainfully: "I imagine that Annan the Grand Duke, leading such wastes, is also such a weakling.
"Let me give you a lift then.
"Your Grand Duke will soon join you—"
The "Sand Demon" let out a thunderous, hearty laugh.
And in the distance, the sandstorm drew ever closer.
Or rather...
