The air inside the strange dimensional plane had grown heavy.
A pale sky stretched endlessly above the ruined battlefield, glowing with a cold gray light that felt neither like day nor night. The ground below was torn apart by magic and violence. Blackened craters scarred the earth. Long cracks ran across the stone like veins spreading across a corpse.
At the center of it all floated the sorcerer.
His robes drifted slowly in the windless air, and his eyes looked down at the Moonshade family like a man staring at insects crawling across the floor.
Moments earlier one of the ancient ancestors of the Moonshade clan had died in front of everyone.
The old vampire's body had been struck by a beam of condensed mana so dense that his chest had collapsed inward like brittle glass at first. The corpse had not even touched the ground before exploding into a pile of scattered splashed paint like blood.
The Moonshade family stood frozen.
