Max stood frozen, his chest heaving, his fists trembling at his sides. 'All of them… gone. Just like that.' His mind raced, trying to process what he had just witnessed.
Elder Liam's face was pale, his spear trembling faintly in his grip. Elder Owen and the other Black Lotus elders stared wide-eyed, their flames flickering weakly as shock carved itself into their features.
Tower Lord Mathew and Thunder Lord Xander lowered their heads, not in shock, but in grim acceptance. They had seen this power before. They knew this was what it meant to stand in front of a true demon lord.
Ballion, however, did not even glance at the corpses. His face was the same—calm, detached, utterly unmoved. As if the lives of a thousand Direkins meant no more than ashes in the wind.
He folded his hands behind his back, his robes swaying faintly as his crimson eyes turned toward Max once again.
