The battlefield was silent.
It was the absolute, terrifying quiet that follows a natural disaster.
The chaotic roars of the stampede had been momentarily muted. The mercenary army, the remaining city guards, and even the arrogant Dukes of Argentum could only stare.
Damien stood in the mud, surrounded by the bisected, massive corpses of five 8th-Order Warlords. Toxic green blood pooled around his boots, but his trench coat remained immaculate, repelled by the invisible, suffocating pressure of his [King's Mantle].
He didn't look tired, neither did he look out of breath.
DING.
A sound clearer than any clash of swords rang in Damien's mind. A translucent blue screen materialised in his vision, flashing with an intensity he hadn't seen since the Surface War.
[System Alert: Extinction-Level Event Averted.]
[Major Plot Deviation Detected.]
