On the desert plains 800 miles south of the compound, a bloody battle had just reached its end.
Multiple large craters of varying depths filled the area almost completely, leaving almost no flat land on the plains. Only rubble remained of what used to be stone hills, and bloodied, dismembered bodies lied unmoving all over the area.
The smell of blood dominated the area, overpowering the faint earthy smell of the moonlit desert.
A thick trail of blood stopped at the feet of a furry figure as the figure's claws were gripping a certain famous grand magus's severed head, looking coldly into the dead man's eyes.
"You are indeed strong, it's unfortunate that your intelligence cannot compare" he lightly whispered.
The figure then hovered in the air before he rushed away from the battlefield. 300 miles were covered in mere minutes, and a gate protected by a barrier quickly entered his sight.
