Jamas could not believe what was happening on the streets of his town. His sight was too weak to discern the identity of the ones responsible for such carnage, but he could see a fiery form and a bolt of lightning crossing through the streets.
All the demonic beasts, the creatures that had kept the town's survivors in a state of utter fear and despair, were being butchered, burned, and blasted to pieces, no different than ants before the might of lightning and fire.
Jamas could not take his eyes off the carnage. With every demon's death, a sense of righteous justice arose in his heart, a fierce satisfaction in seeing those monsters that killed his friends and neighbors being annihilated.
His heart pounded in his chest with a strength he believed was gone as he witnessed the fiery figure and the lightning bolt wreak havoc on the demonic horde. Each demon's death was a blow against the darkness that had enveloped his life since the apocalypse.
