The nightmare was dissipating.
The Forgotten Abyss, shrouded by Lockmarton's power of Chaos, gradually broke away from the darkness. The first thing that changed was the core of the epic battle, the throne of the nightmare tyrant—Spiral Hill.
The evening twilight slipped away while the twisted remnants of Spiral Hill disintegrated in silence. Smoke rose from the monsters that emerged from the nightmare like sunlight shining on the morning dew. They became transparent before they disappeared. The storm over the plains had stopped, and the giant pillars of smoke as well as dust collapsed like dreams, releasing little glows up to the sky akin to liberated souls. There was some mysterious debris that shimmered and fell from the sky onto the battlefield, on every soldier and general.
Startled, Calaxus looked at the scene and reached out.
