Clean. Silent. No blade, no visible motion, just there one second and gone the next.
Veth regenerated first, blood and flesh knitting back together in seconds, the devil's usual resilience kicking in out of pure instinct.
Coryn's didn't.
His severed head sat several feet from his body, eyes wide, staring at his own headless form still kneeling perfectly upright in front of the boy who'd done it.
The pressure in the air hadn't let up at all.
If anything it deepened, settling over the ruined battlefield like something ancient and absolute had decided to finally show its full weight.
'So this is what real power feels like,' Coryn thought, if thinking was even the right word for whatever was happening in a head no longer attached to anything.
He'd stood in front of Lord Zhask before. Felt that particular crushing reverence that came with being near something the entire devil realm bowed to without being told.
This was heavier, it was too much
