And so, under the shine of the sunlight, the piston of the syringe kept moving. The executioner's needle now seemed like a blood pump, gradually drawing the world of Count Palucas into darkness until he could only release a frantic wail.
The light refracted by the stained glass windows slowly began to dissipate, and Lanci gently lifted his hand, withdrawing the card known as the [Shining Virtue].
The brilliant light was instantaneously swallowed by the endless night.
At this point, the executioner's syringe could barely extract any more blood, and the painful howls of Count Palucas had already ceased.
The chapel returned to its usual warm and luminous atmosphere of a banquet.
"It seems he's okay now."
Lanci murmured.
"..."
Hyperion was too afraid to respond to that statement, stealing a quick glance at the withering Count Palucas on the ground and then quickly shifting his gaze away, silently repenting to himself.