Magic-Smithing - Chapter 117.7

... gged her to the center of the room as a spectral hand reached for her through the wall I had her propped up against.

“Gods!” Tabitha exclaims as multiple ethereal shapes phase through the walls and ceiling. They looked like featureless people made of silvery smoke, but Tabitha looked at them like they were the embodiment of death.

“Are these remnants?" I nervously asked, spinning around and counting over a dozen such figures surrounding us, with more slowly emerging around us.