Asaki had been stabbed in the stomach with a sharp looking tendril dripping a milky green fluid that caused her to begin to foam at the mouth and collapse in a fetal position, shuddering for a few moments before becoming motionless. Veron was whipped into the stone wall hard enough to cause it to crack where he hit and his wooden staff to break into pieces. He fell to the ground, lifeless, his tiny and now broken frame next to a pile of splinters. Yami had vines wraped around her middle and arms and one wrapped around her face that twisted her head until there was a loud snap before dropping her limp body on the ground. Logre was on his knees, the princes blade to his throat and his hands bound behind him, watching as his friends were killed one by one in front of him. Only Koga stood now, gripping his weapon and staring down Baldur with as straight a face as he could muster, but Logre could see the fear in his eyes. He readied his flail and got a running start, leaping and swinging his weapon overhead once a few feet from the prince only to have a vine grab him and wrap around his chest and make him drop the flail. Logre watched in horror as another vine was wrapped around Kogas neck and began to squeeze the life from him. He wrenched at the vine that slowly tightened on his throat until he felt too weak to fight back and reached out toward Logre, who tried to move forward but was yanked back by the tendril around his hands and a sword pressing against his skin. In an instant, both the vines around Koga tightened greatly and forced the remaining air in his lungs out in a bloody cough before he was thrown forcefully to the ground, rolling across the stone floor like a ragdoll, the contents of his bag scattering and breaking as he did so until his body lay in the far corner.
Logre was alone now, he shook with fear and fury, the knowledge that the deaths of his comrades was nothing compared to the destruction that would come to Etria now that he had failed weighing heavily on him. For a split second he considered lunging forward into the blade and just giving up on the doomed future he helped create, but he was no coward and knew prince Baldur wouldnt let him stay dead. Suddenly his hands were let go and the sword taken away. He fell forward and spun around to look at the prince, his twisted form looming over him and madness filled face leering down both terrified and pained him to see.
"I should kill you for treason, Logre. But i wont, and you know why dont you? You know you've always been my favorite." The last word sent a chill down Logres spine, even his voice was warped and disturbing.
"Baldur, youre going to end up killing everyone if you continue this, you ca-ghk!" Logre was cut off by a tendril winding around his neck, the end of which was jammed into his mouth.
"Be silent. You cannot convince me to let my empire fall. You will obey me or be punished, and youve already been disobeying me for long enough." More tendrils and vines began to snake into the gaps of his armor and creep along his skin, making him feel smothered and disgusting.