Adam was breathing hard.
Each breath scraped his lungs raw, his chest burning as he stared at the direction where the profound lord had crashed. His arms trembled and his legs felt distant.
…Still not enough.
That attack had taken everything.
Vehicles screeched to a halt at the edge of the district. The manager and several acolytes stepped out, and froze.
The street looked like a war zone. Countless corpses lay scattered across the ground, buildings shattered as if struck by gods, streets torn open by thunderous impacts. Smoke and dust hung heavy in the air.
The manager stared, mind blank.
One of the acolytes swallowed hard and tugged at his sleeve.
"Manager… isn't that Mr. Adam?"
The manager's gaze snapped forward.
Adam stood at the center of it all, alone, battered, surrounded by ruin.
Before he could speak, he noticed movement.
A collapsed building groaned and the profound lord stepped out.
The manager's blood ran cold.
So that's him.
