The thunderous sounds of explosions reverberated through the desolate buildings, while a large column of smoke rose like a harbinger of the chaos that was about to unfold.
The street was filled with the imminent tension of the unknown.
Cephal, sensing Azrakthar's temporary distraction, stepped up his attacks. Each stroke of his blade was like a flash of cutting steel, a chaotic and coordinated dance with the demonic wolf.
Azrakthar, despite his injuries, had the endurance of a relentless demon. His scythe was an extension of his will, shredding space with ferocious dexterity.
Every onslaught from Cephal and his wolf was counterbalanced by Azrakthar's diabolical skill, creating a tumultuous symphony of metal and magic.
As the battle raged under the first rays of morning light, the conversation between Kaizen and Delgron continued as a verbal counterpoint to the physical storm.
