Zhahara froze, even forgetting to blink as Kael's golden eyes stared directly at him.
And it wasn't just him—every soldier around him was the same. No one dared to move. Their faces turned pale, their hands trembled around their weapons, and even their beasts—creatures trained for war since birth—began to shift uneasily in the air. Their wings twitched, their growls turned into whimpers.
No one needed orders anymore.
They all knew.
This wasn't a battle.
It never was.
They had tried everything—spells, formations, artifacts—nothing worked before, and it definitely wouldn't work against… whatever that being staring at them had become.
Not one thing.
Staring at the man who had just destroyed half an army and turned hundreds of beasts into ash in seconds, every single soldier understood the truth.
They could not win.
Even if ten captains fought together.
Even if a hundred soldiers surrounded him again.
They would still die.
