The battlefield had become a wasteland of chaos, a violent storm of destruction stretching for miles. Fires raged uncontrollably, ash and smoke choking the air, and the ground was a jagged, fractured ruin. The once-pristine horizon had turned into a swirling maelstrom of crimson and black as if the heavens themselves were recoiling from the sheer intensity of the clash.
Ethan stood amidst it all, a being of pure fury and destruction. His blood wing flared behind him, its pulsating glow casting an ominous red light over his body. Crimson veins of energy coursed across his skin, throbbing in sync with his unrelenting rage. His elongated claws, sharp and glinting, dripped with raw power, and his eyes burned with a berserk ferocity that promised nothing but devastation.
