"Crazy," Aaron blurted out uncontrollably, the word escaping before he could catch it.
The slap from Dracula had been deafening, far beyond sound, more like a physical force that hammered the eardrums and rattled every bone in the body.
The shockwave it generated dwarfed the previous one: a visible, expanding sphere of compressed air that tore through the sky like a newborn supernova, shredding what little remained of the battlefield's terrain into fine dust and molten slag.
Trees that had somehow survived earlier cataclysms were uprooted and flung skyward like confetti; stone vaporized mid-flight; the very atmosphere screamed in protest.
The pressure wave rolled outward for miles, flattening hills into smooth plains and leaving behind a perfect circle of scorched, glassed earth.
"Dracula!!" Seraphim roared, voice ringing with righteous fury.
