The shore of Yang Lake, once a place of tranquil, fiery beauty, was now a scene of utter devastation.
The corpse of the Abyssal Maw Leviathan lay half-submerged in the steaming water, a testament to a battle that had defied all known scales of power for a recruit-level assessment.
Ayra Sand, the S-Grade Primal Fury Berserker, stared at the monstrous, unmoving form, her great-axe feeling less like a weapon and more like a child's toy in her hands.
The crimson remnants of her berserker rage had been completely extinguished, replaced by a profound, chilling awe.
Her mind, accustomed to the straightforward logic of overwhelming force, struggled to comprehend what she had just witnessed.
She turned to Lia, who was calmly tending to a minor cut on her arm, her A-Grade Staff of the World Ash glowing with a serene emerald light.
"Lia," Ayra's voice was uncharacteristically shaky, a hoarse whisper. "That… that thing.
