The streets of the Kingdom of Wolves were covered in blood, and a figure stood on top of the Royal Castle, looking over the destroyed City.
There was no happiness or sadness on Vor's face. He stood like a lifeless puppet. Looking at the blood everywhere, he couldn't help but remember the time when the blood belonged to his family, that was killed right before his eyes. The glove was on the other hand now.
The sky above him was already covered in dark Clouds, giving the impression that it was going to rain, but even the rain didn't come down. It was as if even the rain didn't dare to clean the blood from the streets.
Vor closed his eyes, feeling the cold winds brush against his skin. The wind carried the stench of blood with it.
There were two sides, still waiting for Vor to leave.
"This was faster than even I expected," Ramiun frowned, slightly amazed at the battle himself.