The shattered remains of the Three Commandments of Monarch—Garil, Loxus, and Reiner—those very same bodies that had been obliterated by Max's golden swords, reduced to scattered flesh, shattered limbs, and charred armor, suddenly began to twitch.
Bit by bit, bone fragments, muscle sinew, and torn roots of energy slithered across the stone floor like strands of fate being pulled by invisible threads. The dismembered parts gravitated toward each other, humming with a low, unnatural resonance, and began to piece themselves back together.
What had moments ago been nothing more than disfigured corpses were now reforming, reconstructing cell by cell, essence by essence, until three whole figures stood tall once again in the clearing.
