The explosion's force sent shockwaves rippling through the battlefield, hurling debris in every direction. Klaus instinctively shielded his face with his forearms, bracing himself against the powerful gust of air that followed the blast. The air carried the scent of charred flesh and decayed matter, a sickening mixture that made his stomach churn. When the dust finally settled, he lowered his arms and surveyed the aftermath.
Where the Nightmare Carapace once stood, there was now nothing but scattered remains of fresh and fragments of its chitinous shell embedded in the dark stone, pools of inky ichor slowly seeping into the ground. The sheer force of the detonation had completely obliterated its monstrous form.
And at the center of it all, Adrian stood motionlessly.
