The flames on Fierce Hell Avenue seemed to have been extinguished.
The blood had also dried up.
The whole street was deathly silent, once again sinking into tranquility.
The Chaos Followers were all satisfied, having witnessed the war of the six armies; they felt content with their lives. Such a level of chaos was enough to be nominated for the best chaos of the year.
Although it still couldn't compare to the great battle of Fierce Hell, after all, it had ended on an anticlimactic note.
Their enthusiasm waned.
Vampires and Forest Elves shook hands and made peace.
There was no point in fighting to the death over this.
Sir John's complexion was pale as he leaned against the broad chest muscles of Lady Hannah, the illusions caused by his anemia still not faded, although his head was muddled.
They had even begun to discuss the inheritance of titles and the distribution of territories.