A dense cloud of dust veiled the battlefield, swirling ominously as if the earth itself recoiled from the force of the impact.
All eyes fixed on the epicenter, anticipation hanging thick in the air.
The spectators, frozen in awe and dread, waited for the dust to settle, their breaths caught in their throats.
As the veil of debris slowly lifted, the scene revealed itself.
There she lay, Zephyra's body battered and broken.
Her once formidable presence now bore the unmistakable marks of devastation.
Though Aaaninja had struck her only four times, the damage was catastrophic.
The sheer force of the final blow had left her body trembling on the brink of collapse, her figure etched with the echoes of his overwhelming might.
Her teeth had been knocked loose, many scattered across the ground like broken shards of porcelain.
Blood streamed freely from every orifice, painting a grim picture of her injuries.
