When a god was forgotten, it meant the believers were no more but the god was still alive. Howe what of when the god itself died?
The sky bled crimson as the Silver army plummeted, their wyverns spiraling helplessly without the divine wind to sustain them. Like broken kites, they crashed into the scarred earth, their once-mighty formations reduced to chaos.
The Darkans, moments ago teetering on the brink of annihilation, stood frozen, their gazes locked on the falling enemy. The sudden reversal was incomprehensible.
"What… what happened?" a Darkan soldier whispered, his voice trembling. But the Darkan Head, his scales slick with blood, wasted no time on questions. His eyes blazed with fury and resolve, his greatsword still smoldering from the battle.
"ATTACK! KILL THEM!" he roared, his voice a thunderclap that shattered the stupor gripping his forces.
