The faint glow of the hidden chamber flickered softly, causing the shadows to move along with my quick steps. The Demonic Cup grew heavier in my grasp, at least I felt like it did, as I moved further down; its sinister heat penetrated my skin.

My mind kept replaying the encounter with Munera Obsidian. Her grip and her words still lingered in the corners of my thoughts. I was lucky to have not reencountered her, otherwise my mission would have ended halfway.

The Matriarch needed this, the thing in my hand, and I was just about to reach her. My heart beat faster in my chest, and did the pulse sound louder in this narrow passage? I ignored it and moved fast yet carefully to not spill the cup’s contents.

As I approached the end of the hallway, the chamber's radiant glow from earlier faded. It had shifted to something burdensome, bearing down on me oddly. The air was filled with the smell of blood and an aura of… hopelessness.

“What…?” When I stepped into the chamber, the sight made me frown. The powerful figure of the Matriarch from earlier was now crumpled and frail.

Her once-glorious white fur which had glistened like snow under the moonlight, was now stained with blood. The wounds across her body that were unseen before had reopened, cruel gashes from her last battle that refused to heal.

“He’s back…”

“Ah, you’ve arrived.”

That girl, Lilian, gently nudged her, and she looked at me. Seeing her in this state, the weight of the cup in my hand seemed to grow even more unbearable. I looked down at the cup, the golden liquid stirring in it. It shimmered with an odd warmth that stood in stark contrast to the cold reality before me.

“Yes,” I said, walking beside her massive head, her divine aura pressing down on me. Her eyes, though dim, flickered with faint recognition as I gently lifted the cup to her lips. “I’ve brought it. I’m not sure if there’s some secret recipe for this. I just put the blood in it.”

She took a slow look at the golden liquid. Her granddaughter did the same, staring at it with curiosity. Unlike the divine golden light it emitted, it had a bad smell on it. It was a demonic item, after all, not a divine one. It was made of blood.

“...Tell me,” she demanded in a soft, low voice, “whose… blood have you gathered for this potion?”

I hesitated to answer. Faces of the dead flashed in my mind. Werewolves and vampires alike—casualties of the battle outside. I didn’t want to waste time killing those zombies, so I just took the blood of the already dead. That was wiser for it saved time.

The first sample was from that dead werewolf named Rathor, after which I ran around to find more dead bodies. The blood in that cup wasn’t just from one side; it was a bitter mixture, a reminder of the senseless violence that had brought us to this point.

“Both,” I finally admitted, my voice barely more than a whisper. “Werewolves and vampires… both gave their blood.” Her family and her tribe put their essence into this.

The Matriarch’s eyes darkened in a deep sadness clouding her features. For a long moment, she looked away, her gaze distant, as if seeing something far beyond the confines of the chamber. “So much death… so much senseless destruction,” she murmured, her voice carrying the weight of ages, more to herself than to me.

“Grandmother…”

Her gaze slowly sharpened hearing Lilian’s call, hardening with a fierce resolve that sent a chill down my spine. “That Vampire will pay for this,” she vowed in her growl so deep and low that it reverberated through the chamber. “I will see to it myself.”

Her mouth opened weakly, her gaze guiding me. With the utmost care, I poured the golden liquid into her mouth, watching it flow down her throat like a lifeline.

For a long moment, the chamber was silent, the oppressive stillness broken only by the faint, labored breathing of the Matriarch. Both my and Lilian’s hearts pounded in our ears, like a desperate prayer hoping for the potion to work, that it wasn’t too late.

We watched as our prayers came true.

Gradually, right before my eyes, a change started to occur.

The Matriarch's breathing became stronger and steadier. The dullness that had taken over her fur began to fade, and it was replaced by a soft, familiar glow that spread across her body. She immediately looked full of energy. The deep wounds that had marred her majestic form began to close, healing before my eyes. Her dim eyes brightened, and a fierce determination ignited within them as she regained her strength.

“Ah…” I watched in a trance, as the Matriarch rose to her feet, her massive form once again towering over me. This time, higher than last time. She had only taken a few sips, and yet she looked much healthier.

The oppressive weight that had filled the chamber lifted, replaced by a palpable energy that crackled in the air. Life flowed through her body as a drop of golden liquid dripped down her lips.

“Grgh…” As the Matriarch regained some of her strength, her gaze turned toward me, and I saw gratitude in her eyes. More than that, there was an urgency, a lingering tension that spoke of the battle still raging above us.

Despite her rejuvenation, I could sense that she hadn't fully recovered. I hope the remaining portion of the elixir will address that.

"Thank you," her words filled the chamber with a force that sent chills down my spine. "You've taken great risks to deliver this to me, and I am grateful for that." Her gaze softened briefly before the gravity of the situation returned to her eyes. "Time is running out, and there's much left to accomplish.

"With those words, she lifted the cup in her massive paw and drank the rest of the potion in one long, deep gulp. As soon as the final sip touched her tongue, a burst of power surged from her, causing me to stagger backward.

The air buzzed with the emergence of a Demi-God's presence.

The atmosphere seemed to quiver with the intense strength of her aura, rising like a beam of light.

The ceiling above us cracked and splintered, chunks of stone and debris raining down as the Matriarch’s power blasted upward, tearing through the roof and into the sky. The energy filled the chamber with a blinding light that seemed to pulse with her heartbeat. The sheer intensity of her aura sent shockwaves around the area, and all I could do was watch in dumbfounded awe as she summoned the force of a divine beast’s strength.

With a mighty leap, the Matriarch launched herself into the air, her massive form soaring through the broken ceiling and into the night sky. Her presence was a blazing beacon, a force that matched the Vampiric Father I had seen earlier.

I slowly stood up there in the wreckage of the chamber, Lilian standing beside me as we stared up. The battle was far from over, but with the Matriarch in the fight, there was a renewed sense of hope.

The echoes of her leap did not fade, they exploded in the night sky like a star, as she clashed against the Vampire.

For a moment, I wondered, Even if I had a trump card, could something like that help me against these monstrous demigods?

I was flabbergasted by the fight that broke before me.

****

The courtyard of the Baron’s mansion was in ruins, the well-kept gardens and playgrounds now a battlefield torn apart by violence.

Ralian clashed fiercely with Val Obsidian, the two acting leaders left destruction in their trail. Their clash was characterized by swift, powerful movements and intense fury.

Ralian’s sharp moonlight-like claws slashed through the air, glowing with a silvery light. [Lunar Rend]! She roared in her head, her Skill leaving trails of luminescent energy as they aimed for Val’s throat. People at their level didn’t have to needlessly shout, although many still did so by habit.

Val sneered, his eyes flashing with crimson light. “[Blood Shield]!” he shouted, and a barrier of dark red energy formed around him, deflecting her attack with a resonating clash. The energy from their collision sent shockwaves through the courtyard, uprooting plants and shattering stone pathways, destroying a part of the wall.

If this continued, they’d enter the city soon. The city would be in ruin by their fighting.

“Is that the best you can do, Ralian?” Val taunted, his voice dripping with malice. Then, he leaped forward. [Crimson Fang]! He called in his head, his fangs elongating as he lunged forward, aiming for her neck.

Ralian twisted in mid-air, her body a blur as she countered with [Moonlight Step]. Her form vanished, reappearing behind Val, unleashing a powerful kick to his back, utilizing her skill, [Silver Edge], surrounding her foot with a crescent of glowing silver energy. The ground rushed up to meet her, the city’s flames growing closer with each passing second.

Val’s earlier attack sent a massive energy maw of fangs flying forward, carving out a dozen houses in the distance, while her kick, the energy that didn’t touch Val, cut off a dozen buildings in two.

Val stumbled forward but quickly regained his footing, turning to face her with a dark grin. [Blood Reaver]! He used another Skill, his hands glowing with blood-red energy as he struck out. The ground beneath them cracked and splintered under the force of their attacks, the once beautiful courtyard, and even the city nearby, now a battlefield of destruction.

“You know this is the end, don’t you?” Val’s voice was cold, his eyes narrowing as he watched her. “My father will destroy your tribe, just as he’s always wanted. It’s your mother’s fault, remember that. She killed my mother, she enraged my father.”

Ralian scowled. Her mother, the Moon Wolf Tribe’s Matriarch, had killed the Vampiric Father's first wife in battle centuries ago. The Vampiric Father waited centuries to take revenge for that, having clashed against their tribe many times.

The recent battle was the most impactful; the Matriarch was pushed to the death’s door. She managed to escape in the end, but since the Father didn’t want the results to be half-assed, he sought them out here to end them permanently.

Indeed, this was a hundred-year-old revenge scheme developed to destroy them all. The Vampiric Father's grudge had always hung over them like a dark cloud, and now it posed a threat to engulf them all.

Ralian’s eyes trembled, and Val's cruel smile deepened as he observed her uncertainty. He added, "Just look at the sky," he gestured upwards with his chin. "That dragon is losing. It’s almost over. It's only a matter of time before she goes down… bringing your tribe down with it."

Ralian glanced in the direction he was looking, and she felt a wave of despair as she watched the gold dragon waver against the Vampiric Father's overpowering strength. The sky had become a battleground, with the moon appearing to lose its brightness under the looming threat of defeat.

Then, like he just said, the dragon fell. Her wings broke, and she was tossed over, stumbling downward like a failed comet.

Ralian’s heart skipped.

Fear tightened around her throat.

Then, suddenly, the sky exploded with brilliant light.

A brilliant, blinding burst of energy erupted from the mansion below, and Ralian’s eyes widened in shock as Vargathrian the Matriarch burst from the depths of the earth, her fur glowing with divine power.

"She… she’s moving? Incredible…" Ralian whispered in disbelief… and hope. She was like a star. She watched as her mother, the Matriarch, soared into the sky like a force of nature – ready to clash against the other source of natural disaster.

“That wench is alive?!” Val's expression faltered, confidence draining from his face as he shouted. This battle was just starting, and it continued with Ralian punching his teeth out for insulting her mother.

****

The night sky was turned asunder as the Matriarch surged upward from the ruins of the mansion, her immense form blazing with divine energy.

The Vampiric Father’s pride after defeating the gold dragon faltered for just a moment in the face of this beast. The wolf’s white fur shimmered under the moonlight, the dullness from earlier completely gone, replaced with a brilliant glow that lit up the battlefield.

The Father’s eyes were wide in disbelief as the once-fallen wolf deity floated before him, the glow in her eyes lacking any sign of weakness.

He recovered quickly, his disbelief giving way to amusement, then to outright laughter. The sound was dark, echoing across the sky, laced with malice. His aura, an oppressive shadow tinged with blood-red, swirled around him like a storm, crackling with dark energy.

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The sheer authority behind his presence seemed to split the very essence of reality. It was an out-of-the-world sight.

And yet, the Vampiric Father merely scoffed. "It seems the old and frail wolf still clings to life?" he taunted, "I must confess that I never anticipated you’d stand against me again, after already losing once, little puppy," he chuckled, "Especially when you’ve been hiding for hours now. What delusion propelled you to think you can alter the unavoidable fate?"

The Matriarch observed him with silent disapproval. Calm, resolute eyes shone as she steadfastly met his gaze. In a moment of divine display, the beacon of divine authority and the cornerstone of dark energy clashed gazes.

[The Warden of the Wilds], that was her class. It made her the protector of her people and nature, the forest her tribe used to occupy, and it granted her a willpower that was not affected by the arrogance of a blood-soaked tyrant.

"Azrath, you committed a grievous error in judgment by coming here tonight. Now, this transcends power, transcends strength," she declared with composure, using his true name. "It's about survival and safeguarding my people. Your kind has wrought only devastation. This all concludes tonight."

The mention of his name made his eyes twitch. He clenched his jaws for a moment, until his lips curled into a snarl, his amusement fading to irritation. "A relic of the past, weakened and eroding; how dare you talk to I, the Eternal Father, that way?"

The Matriarch went silent as he growled, ironic given that he was as old as she was. "Your time has long passed, Vargathrian. I'm not sure how you are still standing, but you'll fall tonight, and I'll drink in the destruction of everything you care about."

The Matriarch's lips widened as she chuckled in a growl. "Oh please, Azrath," she said, her tone mocking him with pity, "for centuries, you've sought nothing but to satisfy your thirst for vengeance. You transformed what was once noble into something monstrous. You've forgotten what it means to protect, now you only know destruction. Do you not feel any shame, driving your family to its destruction for petty revenge? Then fine, your greed will lead to your downfall, as well as that of your family. I’ll make sure of it.”

His eyes burned with rage hearing her words. The earlier mockery in his demeanor faded the more she spoke. Perhaps he could have achieved more if he had given up on revenge and focused on other things. Perhaps even Godhood wasn’t out of reach if he had focused on that instead.

But it was revenge he wanted. His dear wife was killed, and the Vampiric Father wanted revenge for that.

Instead of moving his mouth, his hands rose, the air around him crackling with malevolent energy. Dark symbols ignited around him, lighting up the sky. They twisted through the air like serpents and throbbed with a dangerous energy that pulled the light from the area.

He focused, pouring his willpower into them as they pulsed in response. They grew stronger with every heartbeat.

“You're quite bold tonight, aren’t you, you dog?” Azrath’s voice was low and rough, almost a growl. “But you seem to forget who I am. [The Blood Priest],” he spat. That was both his Class and title. “I control life… and death, blood and bone. I have crushed you before with this power, and tonight you’ll once again drown in the blood I summon. Your tribe will be nothing but dust.”

The sigils flared brightly. Their glow intensified further until they bathed the entire sky in a sickly red light.

The power coalesced, giving birth to a colossal sphere of shadow, drenched in crimson, malevolent magic. It blazed with tremendous force, capable of rending mountains and laying cities to ruin. With a savage smirk, he hurled the sphere at the Matriarch.

The Matriarch did not remain idle. As the Vampiric Father invoked his blood magic, she called upon the primal forces that she had always been one with. The earth rumbled in response to her call, vines and roots bursting from the ground below, spiraling into the sky to block the orb. An explosion filled the air, the wind howled, whipping around her in a vortex of leaves and petals, carrying the scent of life and nature.

The aura surrounding her pulsed with vibrant, green energy, in opposition to the darkness of her opponent. The Warden of the Wilds, guardian of all that was natural, could call every element of the world and they’d answer.

"You speak of drowning in blood," she replied, her voice rising above the howling wind. "As if you were the only strong person here, Azrath. I, too, want to see this come to an end tonight. "May Zal’tharok accept you in the afterlife."

Vargathrian, the Divine Wolf Beast, clashed with Azrath, the Vampiric Father, causing the night sky to erupt in a battle of divine power and dark magic.

The once peaceful and lush battlefield below had transformed into a chaotic tangle of uprooted trees, shattered earth, and swirling energies. The air was heavy with the smell of blood, earth, and something far more ancient—something primal.

Vargathrian floated in front of Azrath while stemming with the power of nature. The light of the moon caused her white fur to sparkle red, and her eyes blazed with a fierce glow that reflected the age-old spirit of the wilds under her guardianship.

The Warden of the Wilds was a Unique Class that made her the champion of Luphoran, the God of Beasts, Wilds, and the Untamed. Her very existence was intertwined with the land she defended, transforming her into a living fortress with the capacity to safeguard any city.

Not that the Vampiric Father was any less of a threat. His aura, deep like a thick, blood-red miasma, swirled around him, pulsating with the twisted energy of his god, Zal’tharok, the God of Flesh, Blood, and Decay.

The Vampiric Father was that God’s Blood Priest, a master of the forbidden arts, and his eyes gleamed with malevolent amusement as he faced Vargathrian. The shock of seeing her in full strength earlier had quickly passed, replaced by a deep, cruel enjoyment at the prospect of breaking her once and for all. He was grinning.

"You think you can stand against me, Vargathrian?" Azrath's voice was an insult, full of arrogance.

Vargathrian's gaze remained steady and unwavering. "Let's see if I can or not, one last time."

Then all hell broke loose.

Azrath raised his palm with a malicious sneer, causing a sequence of blood-red sigils to ignite around him. He smirked. Each symbol pulsated with a dark energy, their twisted shapes writhing like living things as they drew upon the life force in the air.

As a Blood Priest, Azrath’s mastery over blood was unparalleled—his power to manipulate life’s very essence had twisted it into something vile and destructive. The sigils grew larger, their crimson light going nearly black as they merged into a gigantic orb of pure, demonic rage. With a throbbing energy and a threat of ultimate annihilation, the sphere crossed his extended hand.

Fearing for her safety, Vargathrian summoned the savage powers she had long defended. The power of the earth, of the Planet Vear'thia. The ground quaked below her, tearing open to expose ancient, twisted roots. Each wisp was encased in sparkling, silver-colored bark and pulsed with the life force of the earth, intensifying her confidence.

These roots arched upwards, creating a formidable enclosure around her, and each root shimmered like countless moons.

Azrath’s blood sphere began to spin, faster and faster, until it was a blur of crimson energy. With a low, guttural chant, he hurled the sphere toward Vargathrian. The orb shrieked as it cut through the air, tearing apart the very fabric of reality with its dark intent.

Vargathrian didn’t flinch. With a mighty roar, she slammed her paws into the earth, invoking her ancient bloodline.

[Lunar Rebirth: Cradle of the Silver Beast!]

She screamed, her voice echoing with the fury of a thousand storms. The roots entwined around her, creating a shield that gleamed with a brilliant light. The moonlight grew stronger, enveloping the entire battlefield in a silvery radiance as the roots throbbed in unison with her pulse.

The blood sphere smashed into the shield, and for a fleeting instant, there was quiet. Then, the sky was ripped apart by a devastating blast. Shards of devastation rained down on the city, liquefying the earth and claiming the lives of those who could not escape.

The impact surged through the air, ripping the ground and shaking the heavens. The roots stood strong; they were durable and magically enhanced, but the dark magic's immense power began to taint them, distorting their pure essence into something… sinister. The once radiant silver bark turned black, and the roots began to wither.

Vargathrian growled, unwilling to give up. She refused to let Azrath's darkness engulf the world she had vowed to defend—the world where her tribe lived. Due to her injuries, she could not rely on her physical skills and strength; otherwise, things would have been easier…! Now, she could only rely on her magical powers.

Since that was the case, she decided to go all out from now on. Saving her life wasn't a priority right now. She called for the winds, and they responded with a fierce howl.

[Zephyr’s Embrace: Winds of the Eternal Forest!]

The winds swirled around her, carrying the scent of ancient trees and the power to cause a typhoon. They wrapped around the corrupted roots, cleansing them with their touch, and then by her command, they surged forward, slamming into Azrath’s blood magic with the force of a hurricane.

His eyes narrowed as the winds tore through his blood sphere, dissipating it in a flash of crimson mist. He snickered, his hands once again crackling with dark energy.

He clapped his hands together—

[Sanguine Dominion: Requiem of the Fallen Bloodlines.]

—and the sky above them darkened as a storm of blood-red lightning bolts rained down, the strikes aimed to obliterate the wolf deity. But Vargathrian stood her ground, her fur rippling with the energy of the storm, as she too unleashed a Skill.

[Aegis of the Ancient Wilds: Shield of the Primordial Grove.]

At her call, the earth underneath her sprang to life. The tall, weathered trees surrounded her and created an impenetrable barrier, their trunks thicker than city walls. The powerful ancient magic coursing through their roots rendered the red lightning bolts powerless.

The lightning rained down on the defense, and rather than damaging it, it damaged the world instead. The clash of the two powerhouses unleashed devastating explosions with every resounding blow. Lockdarn below grew ever more unstable as their battles led to buildings collapsing, streets fracturing, and city walls crumbling.

Thanks to the corruption from Azrath's blood magic, the once lush battlefield below was now a desolate wasteland of devastation. The Matriarch’s aura helped, but not by much.

Then, she felt it.

Something very wrong.

Something bad within her body. Not good. She panicked in her head. She had to move quickly because time was short. She mustered all her remaining might in order to put a stop to this.

“[Gaia’s Final Embrace: Wrath of the Verdant Titan!]” The burden of decades of watchfulness hung heavy in her voice as it reverberated over the battlefield.

The earth trembled beneath her, and from its depths emerged an enormous being—a living colossus of roots and stone, adorned with vibrant moss and blooming flowers pulsing with vitality. A Titan.

The Verdant Titan roared, its deafening cry rattling Lockdarn’s stone walls as it thundered toward Azrath, obliterating the city in its path.

A surge of pain ripped through her chest as Vargathrian ordered it to continue. It was hard to control the thing. Her vision blurred… as the potion she had ingested earlier began to give out, causing her to gasp.

Her perfect fur turned a deep crimson hue as she furiously coughed and spat blood. She felt a deep, grinding agony that weakened her with each passing second. The pain was intense, and the suffering was intolerable.

As he observed her stumble, Azrath's eyes widened before beaming with pride. The sound of his icy, hollow laughter resounded throughout the battlefield. "Oh, out of your tricks, are you?"

Because her weak body couldn't handle the strain of her ultimate attack, Vargathrian's knees crumbled. As its connection to Vargathrian weakened, the Verdant Titan tripped.

The more the shadows drew in, her heart sank because she knew she could do nothing to stop the approaching darkness. The victory she had fought so bravely for and the hope of her people were both dwindling.

The last thing she heard was Azrath’s triumphant roar, echoing through the battlefield as the Verdant Titan crumbled to the ground, raining heavy rocks over half the city, leaving it ragged. The very world around her faded into darkness, and the mighty Matriarch fell to her knees in the air.

Azrath's eyes narrowed at the sight and he burst out laughing. A savage grin twisted on his face. "Ah, what's this?" he inquired with a mischievous gleam in his voice. "Is the mighty Matriarch displaying signs of weakness? Old wolf, is old age finally getting you?"

Despite the agony coursing through her body, Vargathrian clenched her jaw and stood straight. At this moment, she could not afford to appear weak. The fate of her tribe and the entire planet rested on her shoulders.

But the blood she had coughed up told a different story—a story of a body that was breaking down under the strain of the battle, a body that couldn’t keep up with the demands of her power.

She was so weak that she couldn’t even use her [Worldforge], her domain.

"This battle is far from over," she snarled with a low and furious voice, telling Azrath. "I will not stand by while you ruin all that I have battled for. My tribe will live to see another day."

But the Vampiric Father could see through her bravado. Her anxious expression and shaking hands were obvious to him. A deep, eerie sound resounded across the battlefield as he chuckled. "Go ahead, Vargathrian. Your time has ended. The moment has come for you. I shall remain, while you will go down in history as a mere footnote."

Vargathrian was struck by an onslaught of increasingly vicious blood magic as Azrath continued to release it.

His immense power was like a raging torrent of wickedness that could have engulfed her completely. Vargathrian tried to defend herself. She used the powers of nature, but it didn’t help. The onslaught was too great, too powerful.

With every passing second, her strength and energy faded.

Desperation began to grip her heart. She grew increasingly panicked. She forced herself to continue fighting, for the last of her people’s life was on the line, but her body faltered. Each breath was a struggle, every movement a fight that threatened to overpower her.

The burden of her responsibility grew heavier with each passing second, overwhelming her weakened shoulders.

The Vampiric Father’s attacks grew more relentless, more brutal sensing her weakening self. He didn’t miss the chance. He could taste the victory that was within his grasp. The skies above them darkened further as his blood magic filled the air, blocking the moon and stars.

The ground beneath them cracked and split, unable to withstand the power of their now one-sided battle.

Vargathrian's power continued to wane, and her eyesight became fuzzy. As the din of gunfire faded into an ominous rumble, time seemed to stand still all around her. While she fought to maintain her balance, her body betrayed her, and she was about to pass out.

She was desperate, yet she still wouldn't give up. She guarded the natural environment in her role as Warden of the Wilds. She was too scared to mess up. In no time at all.

“Rargh!” In a last, desperate scream, Vargathrian drew upon her innermost power reserves, summoning her last shred of strength. As if the universe had heard her, a brilliant light had suddenly appeared in the sky above her. A full-blown storm was on the horizon as the wind howled with increased intensity, whipping the clouds into a ferocious vortex.

Lightning danced across the sky like cracks across a mirror, splitting the heavens with their fierce brilliance. Her body trembled with the effort, every muscle straining as she poured everything she had into this final stand.

If released into the ground, it would erase a city from the map with ease.

Such a technique was being hurled toward a lone man.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t enough.

"[Worldforge Expansion]," Azrath's words sliced through the tempest like a razor, his hands creating a complicated ceremonial symbol.

A scary surge of red energy was rapidly converging on him. A suffocating bubble of black magic encircled them both as a dome of throbbing blood materialized in an instant. The air within the dome thickened with an oppressive force as if the very essence of life was being drawn out and twisted by the Vampiric Father’s will.

Battles outside the dome came to a halt as all attention turned to the ominous structure. Looking within, the warriors on both sides were filled with fear and dread since they couldn't see what was going on.

The whirling blood within the dome hid everything, leaving only a creeping fear for anyone courageous enough to stare upon it.

As the morning sun drew near, the crimson dome gradually started to unravel, vanishing into thin air. The final remnants of the dome dissipated, and the battleground reemerged. Everyone was stunned into stillness by what they witnessed.

The battle was over. Vargathrian of the First Apocalypse fell from the sky, her body all bloody and no strength remnant in her veins.

Things had gone horribly wrong. Total annihilation was here.