The council chamber was in ruins.
Spells had torn through the walls and the floor, leaving deep scorch marks and frozen fractures behind. Sword cuts crisscrossed stone pillars and shattered tiles.
The great round table lay broken at the center of the room, splintered and overturned, half-buried under the rubble.
Blood stained the ground, mixed with dust and debris. Smoke choked the air, rolling thick and low, obscuring sight and sound alike.
Within the smoke, figures moved at blinding speed, colliding, separating, striking again with bursts of mana flashing through the haze as the battle raged on without pause.
If the chamber hadn't been reinforced and sealed beforehand, the destruction would have spread far beyond it.
The shockwaves from spells and clashes alone would have torn through adjacent halls, collapsing ceilings and shattering walls across the headquarters.
