Booooom!
The explosion had barely echoes when the others spotted Damien and his summons crossing the plains with shocking speed. The ground behind them seemed to be caving in, sinking deeper.
The race against destruction lasted for about thirty seconds, Damien and his summons surviving the aftermath of the explosion.
The plains had grown unnervingly quiet in the aftermath of slaughter.
The wind carried only the rustle of ash and torn grass, nothing else. No fleeing demons. No battle cries. Just the steady rhythm of Damien's footsteps as he and Fenrir emerged from the ravine's edge.
Luton bounced along at his side, humming like it had swallowed a festival.
In truth, it had swallowed something much worse, but the warriors didn't know that yet. None of them had any idea that this seemingly new addition was the reason for the death of all demons gone.
