After continuing like that for several more moments, Razeal's foot finally stopped. The last heavy strike landed upon the already shattered platform with a deep crack, breaking another piece of reinforced stone loose before silence slowly returned to the ruined throne room. Dust floated through the air around him, spreading beneath the high ceiling while small pieces of marble continued falling from the broken platform and the damaged wall where the golden throne remained buried.
Razeal stood in the middle of that destruction with his shoulders rising and falling, his breathing rough and heavy from the fury he had been forcing into the stone. His fists remained clenched at his sides but slowly, little by little, his breath began to settled.
