Diligent follower

The battle had finally ended, but the devastation it left behind spoke volumes about its ferocity.

The once-majestic canyon was no more—its towering sides now leveled to barren ground. The earth itself seemed irreparable, cracked and broken in ways that made it look as if a god had struck it in anger.

Zamazo's attacks had been fierce, each one carving out destruction meant for a single target but scarring the surroundings beyond recognition.

The air was thick with the stench of blood and ash. What was most unnerving, however, was not the destruction or the countless lives lost bystanders caught in the collateral damage.

It was the suffocating aura of death that lingered—a palpable force that made even the bravest warriors tremble.

Jack was oblivious to it as he approached Zamazo. His once-familiar dark azure aura had transformed into an ominous black, flickering wildly around him like hellfire.