A profound, disbelieving silence blanketed the chamber. The only sound was the dull thud of the axeman's body hitting the stone floor some distance away. What is going on? The unspoken question echoed in the mind of every onlooker, a mantra of sheer bewilderment.
They had all seen it. They had witnessed the man's furious charge, the axe wreathed in apocalyptic flames, the technique whose very name....'Splitting Mountains'...promised earth-rending power. They had braced for the impact, their minds already conjuring the image of Baelgor's broken form flung across the room. He hadn't even moved to defend himself.
Yet, in the space of a heartbeat, the laws of their world had been rewritten. The cataclysmic attack had not vanished with a bang, but with a whimper
a pathetic 'poof' that was utterly disproportionate to the power it had contained. And the attacker was now the one flying, not the target.
A few wondered, hysterically, if this was some elaborate, cruel joke.
