Quinlan hovered in the air, cradling Serika in his arms as the world below writhed beneath them. Ash and corrupted wind spiraled in every direction, and the skyline was split open by protruding earth constructs and melting towers. The capital, once a proud gem of Naryssia, was now little more than a ruin waiting to drown.
He stared up at the abomination of fire and flesh that God Venthros had become.
"Even with his powers sealed by Zhenwu's laws…" he muttered, almost too quietly for Serika to hear, "He's still a god in the end."
Serika's eyes flicked toward him, but she said nothing.
"This… this isn't a spell…" Quinlan continued. His voice was laced with a calm, analytic quality, making Serika feel as if he was a scholar more than a combatant in a do-or-die situation.
