The dust from the explosion slowly settled.
As the smoke thinned, the scene became visible.
Ron's spear was buried halfway into Varak's chest. The area around the spear tip was burned black, flesh charred and cracked from extreme heat. Lia's white blade had pierced through his side, dusk-pink wind still faintly cutting around the wound. Deep gashes covered his torso.
Maera was still mid-descent, one claw gripping into the right side of his neck, red mana flickering violently.
For a second, it looked decisive.
Then—
Varak smiled.
His left arm hung useless, half frozen and half burned, steam rising from the ruined limb. The chains from Selene's spell had already shattered. His eyes, once blinded by Drevin's arrow, were now bloodshot red—he had forcibly purged the darkness from them.
"Kekeke… cough…"
Blood spilled from his mouth.
"You little mutts… killing me… isn't that easy."
Ron, Lia, and Maera's eyes widened.
Their strongest attack.
And he was still standing.
