The green forest where the two titans had fallen was no longer a plain.
It was a wasteland of shattered hills and splintered earth—an ocean of craters steaming under a blood-red dawn.
At the center of one crater lay Crisaius, his form human but broken.
His naked form was half-buried in blackened rock, limbs twisted into angles no anatomy book would ever approve of.
Bones jutted like bent spears, muscles tore beneath scorched skin, and where the demon's redirected blast had struck, raw flesh still smoked in open streaks of black and red.
The old man groaned, coughing out a wisp of ash. "Ughhh… this is exactly why they tell you not to sunbathe without protection. Look at this—instant tan. Raven's gonna pull my leg for weeks if he sees this."
He winced as a rib cracked back into place with an audible snap, then poked the exposed muscle on his shoulder like he was inspecting fruit at a market.
"Hmm. Medium rare. Could've gone for well done, but hey, I'm not picky."
