As the explosion's smoke and debris began to clear, everyone turned their attention to where Jaenor had been.
The crater was deep, perhaps thirty feet, carved into bedrock by the sheer force of Suyajna's attack. Steam rose from superheated stone. Reality itself looked scarred, warped by power that transcended normal nature.
And floating above the crater, completely uninjured, was Jaenor.
He wasn't even scratched. His clothing, simple, dark, and practical, showed no signs of damage. His skin remained unmarked. He didn't even look winded.
He simply floated there, his arms crossed, his impossible eyes fixed on Suyajna with an expression of profound disappointment.
"Was that supposed to hurt me?" he asked, and his voice carried clear disdain.
"A full-power attack from a daemon god, and I don't even feel it? That's how outmatched you are. That's how far beyond you I've become."
