Aurem moved, unhurried and deliberate, turning his long body in the air as though the chaos and bloodshed around him did not warrant any strong reaction.
Rather than hell on earth, he seemed to be watching again.
Similar to the curiosity a human may have when observing the two warring ant colonies.
His long, golden body uncoiled, scales sliding against one another with a muted, almost lazy friction as though to signify their metal-like toughness, as his gaze shifted westward—toward the earth-golem abyssal demigod grinding the battlefield into ruin, and the lightning abyssal looming nearby, storms crawling unchecked across the sky.
Kain felt it before he processed it.
The immense aura was next to him one second, and hundreds of meters away in the next.
The oppressive weight that had pressed down on everything near Aurem's position—abyssal, human, demigod alike—eased just enough to let the world breathe again.
Aurem reappeared and was now on the Western Front of the battlefield.
