The dust and steam finally began to settle after the lightning strike. The violent column of power had scorched a deep, smoking crater into the earth where Jason had stood moments earlier.
For several long seconds the clearing remained almost silent except for the soft hiss of cooling rock and the distant lap of lake water against the shore. Charred grass crumbled under the faintest breeze. The air still carried the sharp scent of ozone and burned soil.
Thar lowered his axe slowly, chest still heaving from the effort. A grim, satisfied chuckle escaped his throat. He had done it. The abomination the council feared, the monster who had walked through an entire army without effort, now lay face-down in the dirt at the edge of the crater, completely still. The orc allowed himself a single breath of relief.
Then the snoring started.
Loud, deep, almost theatrical snoring.
