The swarms of undead began to withdraw suddenly, either falling into the ebony sea below or drawing away to make room where they had initially created a literal cloud of darkness as per their master's command. Despite the clearing, the battlefield still looked crowded from the skies to the surface of the sea, not in a matter of numbers per se, but instead, because of the powerhouses involved.
The masked stood above all others while riding his undead winged horse.
Jerthrax, even without flapping his wings floated a few hundred meters below him, his eyes cast in a raging blue.
Opposite the Herald, nearly half a kilometre away, the Null Devil King stood in the air, his large sword out and Stylla by his side.
A bit below these two, floated the figure of the amalgam with Yuyui perked atop his shoulders. What kept him in the air, was the Empyrean Ribbon, which had been fashioned into a wrapping around his waist. It pulled his weight up easily.
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