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“K-Ketal… How did you get back so fast?” Kain’s voice trembled, disbelief clouding his face.
Only moments ago, Ketal had been blasted away by Carbarax’s overwhelming power. Judging by that force, he had to have flown at least a hundred kilometers, vanishing entirely from view. For him to return so quickly, so soon after being thrown such a staggering distance, was almost unimaginable.
Ketal answered without any hesitation, brushing the dust from his body as if he had just completed a short jog rather than an epic journey across the landscape.
“I ran as hard as I could,” he said, his voice casual, as though there was nothing at all remarkable about his return.
Kain was left speechless. Words caught in his throat, unable to process the reality before him. Ketal calmly stroked his chin, scanning the devastated battlefield with a steady gaze.
“I had a bad feeling, so I pushed myself. The situation here… is not good,” Ketal muttered.
The evidence of the disaster was all around. The corpses of countless soldiers, mercenaries, priests, and mages littered the ground, their lives extinguished in mere moments. The only ones left standing were the Mercenary King, the Archbishop, Kain himself, and a scant handful—perhaps two or three others. In less than five minutes, an entire army had been wiped out.
“What happened here?” Ketal asked Kain, his voice low.
Kain could barely muster an answer, his eyes haunted by what he had witnessed. “The flower...
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