The oppressive silence hung heavily in the aftermath, a stark juxtaposition to the thunderous clashes that had just transpired. Everywhere the eye could see, the serene landscape was now marred by remnants of battle. Large swathes of land, once lush and green, now bore the dark, ashy evidence of Lord Raiden's incredible power.
Steam tendrils curled upwards from dampened spots, remnants of where Elara's icy touch had momentarily stemmed the fiery tide. The acrid scent of charred wood mixed with the aroma of burnt grass, creating an almost heady blend that clung to the senses.
Just beyond the immediate battlefield, hidden behind an assortment of trees and overturned wagons, travelers and merchants slowly emerged from their makeshift shelters. Their faces, having witnessed raw power in its purest form, were a tableau of awe, curiosity, and fear. Eyes wide, they exchanged hushed whispers, trying to process the spectacle they had just witnessed.
