The rocky walls of the cliff's base that surrounded the foot of the mountain range was filled with deep, magma-framed holes. Some were produced by the massive fireballs that exploded on impact and some were drilled by the destructive energy of light magic.
Massive spikes of ice were stood all around the base of the cliff, and on their sharp tips were impaled giants. Dead bodies of Thevon's soldiers mixed in with all the demons that he had killed.
For three days, without sleeping, drinking, eating or even resting, Thevon Luxier had been fighting all alone. Several high-ranking demons were taking turns to wear him out to finally be able to kill him.
The scion of light extended an arm once more, his palm facing the enemies.
His blood dripping from his forehead, down to his eyes and then to his chin, covered his face. His pristine white robe was stained and tattered. The sun and moon had risen three times, but the battle was far from ending.
