Chapter 78: The Sun and the Rot
Ten kilometers deep in the Wildlands, the sky was split perfectly in half.
To the east, the horizon was a pitch-black, suffocating void of demonic rot.
To the west, it was a blinding, incandescent ocean of golden solar fire.
Elder Martha stood at the epicenter of the darkness, her chest heaving.
Blood poured from her eyes and nose.
Through the tether of her dark magic, she felt the horrifying truth ripple across the battlefield.
Elder Briggins's colossal aura had vanished.
Elder Mathews's corrupted signature had been violently snuffed out.
She was the last Elder standing.
"Useless," Martha hissed, her voice trembling with a mixture of terror and absolute, unhinged fanaticism.
She looked up at the towering man slowly walking toward her through the rotting fog.
Lord Commander Helion Goldmane did not look tired.
He did not have a single scratch on his pristine, heavily medaled Vanguard coat.
