Linda's hands flew to her mouth, her eyes wide with shock as she stared at the battlefield.
The exchange between Damian and Duke Haborym had been nothing short of monstrous. Every clash carried the weight of annihilation, every movement pushed the limits of what the body could endure. They had both poured everything into those few violent moments, but now the difference had become clear.
It was Damian whose body had given in first.
Her gaze trembled as she watched him struggle on the shattered ground. Duke Haborym was right when he said the moment Damain relied on those white flames, the backlash would come.
He was already at his limit!
Damian's vision was gone. The world before him had blurred into indistinct shapes, his eyes barely able to make out outlines, let alone detail. His breathing had grown uneven and heavy, each inhale demanding more effort while giving him less in return. His chest rose sharply, then dropped as if weighed down by an invisible force.
