A bolt of thunder fell upon him, striking Cale directly and sending him crashing to the ground.
It was not weak by any means.
The impact shattered what remained of his defenses, leaving him gasping and bleeding on the scattered stone pieces.
But he rose again.
Slowly, agonizingly, Cale forced his half-crippled, bleeding body upward, rising from the shattered land to face the sky...
Turning his back to the ruined mountain, he threw his arms wide open in a fearless gesture of defiance.
"If... I'm dying... why won't I mock my killer...? Hahaha!"
His torn, blood-soaked robes slipped down his broad, heavily scarred shoulders, exposing his battered, muscular burnt back to the roaring storm as his long hair whipped wildly in the celestial tempest.
It was healing, but the heavens were deliberately slowing it, denying him even that small mercy.
