The furious explosion tore through the light, casting the world into complete darkness.
The army watching the clash immediately lost sight of Max. Their eyes could not stay open beneath the destructive winds tearing across the battlefield, and even those who tried to force themselves to look could only see black void, green wind, and purple ice fire twisting together in a massive storm where their king had vanished.
Henry's body was also blown away, thrown far into the distance as the pressure tore him from his place between the two progenitor dragons. His wings spread desperately, purple frost and green wind crawling over them as he tried to resist, but no matter how hard he fought to keep his footing, he and his army of undead were forced to retreat.
The only thing that could still be heard clearly through the chaos was the cracking of ancient bones, the hollow sound of the two progenitor dragons being crushed under the pressure of Max's void magic.
Henry's face paled.
