The world-cracking tide of elements raged. The Flame-Scale Beast, one of the four mountain guardians, trembled so hard its armor rang, eyes wide with shock. Four guardians together could brawl even a visiting god. But this black-haired, black-eyed man. Was he even a normal god at all?
"Big shot, you trying to kill us with the enemy?" Nuhachit blanched, wondering if he had backed the wrong horse half his life.
When a string of crystal-bright orbs rose and circled over Orson's head, everyone present silently chose last words.
"Not a Forbidden curse, yet beyond any Forbidden curse. So this is Chaos magic," DoomBringer whispered, voice shaking.
He squared his shoulders and stepped forward into a knight's stance, taking his place before the one woman he had worshiped for a lifetime.
"DoomBringer."
