The battlefield had grown quieter.
Cain surveyed the carnage with a strange sense of detachment.
Hundreds of {Firesand Naga} corpses littered the scorched earth, their metal scales still glowing faintly from residual heat. The artificial volcano had been reduced to a crater, molten rock pooling at its base. The vortex overhead was beginning to dissipate, though occasional flashes of lightning still illuminated the ash-choked sky.
His contracted beasts had regrouped around him. Ruby's fur was matted with blood—most of it not her own.
Lyos coiled in the air above, periodic hissing and low calls from the sky serpent an indicator that it wasn't satisfied yet.
Ignis stood a few meters away, her skin gradually returning to its normal tone as the flames around her fists guttered out.
But Cain's attention wasn't on the aftermath.
It was on his hands.
'The power output... is incredible.'
