Achilles had seen scenes of devastation before.
He and Rose had witnessed multiple Leyline Fractures.
They were there when one was deliberately triggered to cover up the actions of a certain rich young master.
And yes, there had been destruction then, but the death toll had been kept minimal.
Minimal.
But what he saw now was anything but minimal.
He gazed at the shadow of a once-grand colony, tall buildings wrapped in incandescent vines, now shattered and decimated. Towering High Orcs, terrifying in size and strength, crashed through both concrete and flesh.
High Orcs.
He remembered them from scattered memories left behind by Ancient Ones, this lineage was among the most brutal. Their strength branched across multiple territories of the Plane.
And this region? It was only a portion of the Holy Land that had risen for the High Orcs.
This lineage was infamous for its savagery. For its unchecked lust.
