The world lit up.
A torrent of golden-red flame erupted from his lungs, the Wyrm's Breath roaring forth like the wrath of a dying sun. It swallowed the ruins in a cone of annihilation, devouring everything in its path. The air ignited, molten cracks tearing across the ground.
The woman's laughter finally stopped.
When the fire died down, Damon staggered, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth. His throat was raw, his mana drained by the overwhelming release. Everything in front of him was burning.
And yet a single shape still stood in the smoke, unburnt, untouched. The young woman walked forward through the haze, a smirk tugging at her lips. Her hair fluttered in the heat, her eyes gleaming brighter than ever.
"Oh," she whispered, voice trembling with something like delight. "That… was exquisite."
Damon's heart sank. This was it. He simply had no other trump cards left in him.
