War End

The battlefield was drenched in blood, the once-proud banners now torn and scattered like the remnants of a lost cause.

The air was thick with the scent of, blood ans iron... Of death, and the only sound that remained was the faint crackle of dark energy dissipating into the night sky above.

Malrik stood in the carnage, his army has been reduced to little more than lifeless corpses.

All around him, his men had been annihilated. Hundreds had perished in the blink of an eye, their screams still lingering in the cold air.

The lucky ones had died swiftly. The others… had begged.

Ivan stood a few feet away, his black mana coiling around him like some... entity of the abyss, whispering, shifting, feeding.

His sacred Eidolith, Dooms Day Declaration.

At his feet lay the bodies of the last few who had dared plead for their lives.

Their words had meant nothing.