The obsidian rubble of the Demon General cooled slowly in the center of the grand plaza. It popped and cracked as the intense heat bled away into the freezing winter air. The purple smog above Ashbourne still swirled with toxic intent, but the immediate slaughter on the ground had ceased.
Silence descended on the ruined city. It was a fragile and stunned quiet.
The surviving soldiers of the Imperial Legion slowly lowered their useless steel weapons. They stared at the mountain of black glass. Then they turned their eyes toward the small group of warriors standing near the shattered stone fountain. They looked at Kael, whose skin was just beginning to lose its blinding platinum glow. They looked at the White Lotus Paladins forming a perfect defensive ring.
And they looked at Valeria.
