Both armies watched in absolute silence, faces frozen in shock as the thick cloud of dust slowly settled.
For hundreds of meters in every direction, there was nothing but destruction.
Terrifying claw marks carved deep furrows into the earth, intertwined with scorched trails left by lightning, gashes that yawned open dozens of centimeters wide.
The black mud still smoldered, hot from the residual energy of the skills. Scattered across it lay the corpses of orcs, trolls, goblins, and kobolds, all torn apart, some reduced to little more than unrecognizable chunks of flesh and bone.
Many of those men had never witnessed a clash between fourth-stage experts. To them, it was as if a battle between demigods had just unfolded before their very eyes.
Even the Lords accompanying Zael—the same ones who, until just moments before, had held open contempt for Ethan in their eyes—were forced to quickly compose their expressions.
