The mountains that had stood for thousands of years were now nothing but shattered and melted heaps. Rivers of blood flowed through the deep chasms, and the ashes of dragons scattered in the wind.
And at the center of that hell, Daniel stood calmly. His clothes were still clean, his breathing was steady, and his golden eyes observed the destroyed battlefield without the slightest change.
Before him, the three commanders barely remained on their feet.
Rodric had fallen to one knee. His white and gold armor was almost completely destroyed, and black cracks covered his entire body. He had lost one hand.
