The Duke let out a wild, breathless laugh as he stared at the headless body standing before him. Dark, black blood spurted continuously from the severed neck, drenching the ruined earth in heavy, viscous stains.
Allen was a complete wreck of a man. The desperate decision to sacrifice one of his aspect chambers was functionally no different from committing suicide or detonating his soul sanctum entirely. Regardless of the outcome, his life was coming to an absolute end, and he knew it down to his very bones.
Looking at him vertically, exactly half of his body and face had been charred pitch black, as though a precise line had been drawn down his centre and one entire half burned away to cinders.
Sacrificing one of his two aspect chambers had allowed the Duke to channel and direct all of that violent, destructive power in a single focused direction rather than letting it unleash as an uncontrolled, omnidirectional explosion.
Allen had taken that horrific risk for one reason only.
