The way that this refined young gentleman raised his hand was full of style and bearing, resembling a painter lifting his brush to paint. Yet, a shadowy mist would travel in whichever direction he pointed at, as if he was the Grim Reaper performing a roll call. His targets would instantly begin to burn upon making slight contact with the mist, just like when kerosene met a spark...

This sight was simply too strange to behold.

Every one of his fingers was like a longsword on which ...