The explosion wasn't just loud—it was biblical.
A dome of blinding gold and blood-red flame surged outward like the wrath of some forgotten god. It didn't just swallow the battlefield. It devoured it—sucked up the sound, bent the sky, erased the lines between reality and destruction. The impact fractured the arena's skeleton, cracking the earth in seismic bursts that rolled for miles.
A pressure wave blasted upward, ripping through the sky like a divine gavel declaring its final verdict.
And then came the breaking point.
Malik's domain—the Infernal Throne—couldn't take it.
It fought for a breath.
Cracks bloomed across the blood-red heavens, tracing the outline of its runes as they dimmed one by one, flickering like candles in a hurricane.
Then came the shatter.
No sound. Just silence.
A breathless implosion.
And the Infernal Throne collapsed into itself, vanishing into an ashen void.
In the same moment, Alex released his own domain.
