For spirits, pure energy is like sunlight nurturing plants.  
But what happens when the opposite prevails?  

“Sob… Sob… Sob…”  

The sound of muffled weeping filled the putrid sewer, an atmosphere utterly unfit for such an expression of sorrow.  
There, a spirit stared into a mirror, seeing the grotesque transformation of its own form.  

“Heuuuugh—!”  

The sight was as expected.  
When the spirit decided to hand itself over to the black magicians, it knew it would endure something horrifying.  

Their aura alone was nauseating, even from a mere brush.