The dull, heavy thuds, intense and tight-knit, finally ceased after nearly two minutes.
Centered on the battlefield where the Pale Knight and the lean, long shadow had clashed, a radius of nearly a hundred meters around it was radiated with countless spiderweb-like cracks spreading across the ground. Pebbles and dust, aggregated by the high-frequency tremors, formed circles upon circles when viewed from high above, as if it was a work of the gods.
The Incarnation of Rothfuss lay collapsed on the ground, its human shape no longer discernible, as if it had been pummeled into a puddle of soft, rotten black sludge.
The pale monstrous serpent weaved and meandered, biting onto its neck and lifting it up.
The "Shadow Coffin" that had been on its body was already shattered and melted away, dropping like droplets of black shadows. Its head hung limply, seemingly fallen into a coma.
Chen Lun looked at it and could not help but feel a pang of emotion.
