The god of justice, on his knees and disintegrating into divine dust, narrowed his glowing eyes one last time.
His voice, a sharp whisper carried by wind and mana alike, slithered into the air with venomous finality.
"You think this is the end, Kyle Armstrong?"
He rasped.
"You've only severed one limb of justice. But justice is not a man. It is a principle, a divine law. You and your kind… will pay. Every last one of you will answer for daring to stand against the heavens."
Before Kyle or Nigel could move, the god raised his trembling hand and slammed it onto the ground.
A shockwave of divine mana burst outward, lacing through the battlefield and beyond.
The light from his crumbling body split into countless tendrils, each one shooting into the sky and vanishing into the clouds.
His voice echoed again, louder this time, omnipresent and filled with wrath.
