Jack's laughter echoed across the barren wasteland. He took a step to the side, his vertical pupils tracking the Herald's position with absolute precision.
The creature was still attempting to rise, its massive frame trembling as it pushed against stone fused to glass by an electrical discharge.
"Look around, Herald," Jack called, his voice cutting through the chaos like a blade. "Take a moment. Look at what's left of your grand army."
The Herald's golden eyes lifted slowly, movements sluggish and pained, scanning the landscape that surrounded them. What it saw would have shattered the consciousness of weaker creatures.
The de-winged dragons lay scattered across the barren wasteland like broken monuments to a fallen age.
Every creature that had marched behind the Herald's command now existed as a crippled husk, grounded, wingless, stripped of the very essence that defined dragonkind.
