Refusing to be outdone, Flaxseed whisked a cluster of glowing talismans from his sleeve. Incantations hissed between his teeth. He snapped his wrist, and the charms burst into streaks of gold that tore across the air toward the unconscious captives.
The streaks struck flesh and detonated in halos of clean light, shredding every trace of black magic clinging to the prisoners' spirits.
"Thank you, honored sir! You have saved our lives!" the newly awakened cultivators cried, dropping to their knees in frantic gratitude.
Flaxseed waved them off with exaggerated nonchalance. "Spare the thanks, run, in a minute, this place becomes a battlefield, and my friend's wrath is something you don't want splashing on you!"
They needed no second warning, scrambling from the main hall like deer sensing a wildfire at their backs.
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