The silence was a tangible entity, a crushing weight that descended upon the cratered battlefield in the wake of Alaric's transformation. The air, once torn by demonic roars and the clash of steel, now hummed with a power so profound it felt as if reality itself was holding its breath.
Alaric stood wreathed in the incandescent azure light of his fully manifested Azure Spirit King. It was no longer a mere avatar but a being of pure, solidified spiritual and elemental energy. The majestic, winged lion moved in perfect sync with him, its sapphire eyes, ancient and wise, fixed on the two demonic figures before it.
Opposite him, the Ruin King Ingranad was a monument to primordial terror. His six obsidian arms twitched, each clawed hand dripping with corrosive shadow. His multiple eyes, like chips of a black hole, held a new, chilling focus.
