The four-winged wolf now possessed only two wings.
Countless wounds covered its body, while one enormous gash extended from its neck to its abdomen.
Then there was the silver wolf.
Michael's expression became slightly more serious.
It was still standing.
Of the four...
It appeared to be in the best condition.
Of course, "best" was relative.
A large section of silver fur on its left side had disappeared.
The flesh beneath had been burned almost completely black, and one ear was missing.
A deep wound crossed its face and continued down its chest.
Black mist still surrounded it, but compared to the terrifying ocean of darkness Michael had seen earlier...
It was pitifully thin.
However, only these four remained within the boundary of the shattered barrier.
"...Where are the others?"
The six awakeners were obviously gone, assuming they hadn't died.
Michael's perception swept across the ruined battlefield and discovered nothing.
