The battlefield was silent, save for the hissing of cooling stone and the faint echoes of molten rock hardening into brittle layers. The reek of scorched flesh and burning stone lingered in the air, a haunting reminder of the carnage that had just taken place.
What had once been a secret cult stronghold was now nothing but a blackened ruin—a city drowned and then gutted by fire and fury.
Lin Mu stood amidst it all, calm and steady, the last embers of his Magma Asura form dispersing into the air like fading stars. His rocky armor had dissolved, the lava-veined claws and tentacles gone, leaving him in his ordinary appearance once again.
Yet, no one present could forget the monstrous figure he had just become... the walking inferno that had shattered the Drowned Crescent Cult's backbone with his own two hands... and four tentacles.
