The expanding cloud of smoke resembles the shape of a mushroom, and crimson-colored fire mixes in, add an extra devastated look to it.
Swallowing everything in its path, the cloud of smoke continues to rise upwards and spread around the area.
"Reminds me of the old times," said Gurthor, looking at the devastating aftermath.
The old times he mentions are his days in Avlora. He reminisces about the catastrophic battles waged in there Realm with the realm dwellers.
The realm dwellers, armored with their finest equipment, ran toward them like a flooding water. The six of them, occupying six towering pillars, stood above and gazed toward the countless realm dwellers marching, their well-crafted weapons shining by the light of the dying sun above.
Standing upon one of the pillars, Gurthor looks toward one of the enemies eagerly, ruining the twisted hope of slaying them.
