When the smoke and dust began to clear, what appeared before everyone's eyes was Rift Rock Pass, split down the middle and utterly destroyed.
And behind the pass, a shocking sword scar that looked like a wound upon the very earth.
Morne's figure slowly descended from the sky, landing lightly on the ground.
His Longsword was already sheathed, and the surging silver Fighting Spirit around him had vanished without a trace.
He stood there as if he had never moved, merely brushing non-existent dust from his shoulder.
His calm gaze swept over the ruins before him. He spoke softly, yet his voice carried clearly to every soldier of the garrison and the allied forces, all of whom were shocked to their very souls.
"Now, who else wishes to consult Lucius?"
The entire battlefield fell deathly silent.
Only the wailing of the wind through the canyon and the breach in the pass could be heard, like a reverent dirge sung for the King's unrivaled Power.
