The battlefield lay in ruin, smothered in the acrid scent of charred earth and smoke that curled into the darkened sky. Flames flickered hungrily across the ground, licking at the remnants of what once stood untouched. Ash danced in the air, carried by the dying winds of battle.
At the heart of the destruction lay the defeated former governor, half-burnt and motionless. His breath came in ragged, shallow gasps, the agony evident even in their stillness. One eye, barely open, reflected the embers glowing around them—a silent witness to his downfall.
Leon stood nearby, their silhouette illuminated by the wavering firelight. Broken in cold sweat, Leon felt his muscles aching as his palms tingled from the nerves. Leon didn't have the luxury to bask in the limelight of his triumph as he watched the flickering flames die out on Valen's charred flesh.
"Hah… Hah…"
