Chapter 585

Ezekiel and Clara stood at the edge of the white candle's light, their staffs gripped in bony hands, the cold glow at the tips flickering repeatedly.

The Black Mist Orb was just too fast. The ice arrows needed careful aiming, but the orb was spinning nonstop, and those ghostly arms never stopped moving.

Ezekiel tried three times, and all three shots missed.

Clara tried twice. One arrow was blocked