After ten years of the dragon massacre.
They meet again.
At the conclusion of a war that was battering down the sacred lands for ages now. It was an hour when rain was brutally clashing down the earth, washing away the blood that had stained her for far too long.
Aesther stood over the ruins with her silver armour.
Her hooded gaze lowered down as she silently stared at him. It was still hard to believe. She could not understand whether it was another one of her dreams or if it was reality.
But there he remained.
Kneeling down.
Bleeding heavily as he leaned against the stone pillar.
Ezrahl was finally… defeated…
She dropped her sword. It made no difference now, even though he was not dead, she could feel how feeble his life energy was. He would be gone soon enough. And Aesther wanted to revel that moment when he would take his last breath.
It was a perfect end.
