Elise took no notice of the scattered, beleaguered cheers of her fellow defenders; she was too busy shoving potions into the mouths of charred, moaning men. Ichigo was kneeling to her side, desperately trying to revive a man who was coughing up smoke and black blood.
Had the ranger not already experienced the smell of seared human flesh during her solo jaunt as the Appleton Bandit, she probably would have been suffering the way Pita was - heaving violently on all fours. The druid had knelt down to help, but his stomach turned as he tried to administer a potion to one of the twisted bodies that had been lined up on the cobbles near Ichigo. At least he hadn’t puked on any one.
Mercenades had paled and retreated at the awful sight of the gathered wounded and unidentifiable crust-blackened
