Ethan's pupils shrank to pinpricks.
A sharp pain stabbed through his chest—not just from the destruction of his weapon, but from what it meant. The last line of defense had shattered.
He launched backward, trailing a streak of energy behind him.
But Wyrmgod was faster.
The massive figure cleaved through the air like a bolt of lightning, cutting off his escape in an instant.
A wave of heat slammed into him. The air reeked of rust and sulfur.
Ethan could almost taste the blood in the demon's breath.
"Shit."
He cursed under his breath.
No hesitation.
He thrust out his hand and slammed it against the space beside him with everything he had.
Boom—!
A jagged rift tore open.
Light spiraled, and he was yanked into the vortex.
The world flipped.
He crashed down onto a silent plain.
The sky here shimmered with a soft golden hue, the air warm and still—almost peaceful. But Ethan didn't relax for a second.
"Hah… hah…"
