In the sky of Dravos, the battle raged on.
Ten minutes passed, and the heavens themselves seemed to tremble beneath the force of the clash. Sword-light, stellar fire, holy radiance, and corruption collided again and again, each impact sending shockwaves rolling across the desert below.
Then Duke Damien felt it.
A faint coldness had begun to seep into his body.
His expression darkened.
He was the strongest of the four, and he had remained at the rear the entire time, furthest from the haze. If the corruption was reaching even him now, he did not want to imagine how badly it had already burrowed into the Sword Demoness, who had spent every second of the fight wreathed in the thick of it.
His fear was not unfounded.
