The middle-aged man was reduced to ash, and every last clansman outside the barrier was consumed by the lightning tribulation.
No one knew how long it took before the final rumble of thunder faded, when silence fell, it was the suffocating stillness of a grave.
Corpses lay strewn across the ground, the air thick with the sickly stench of blood.
Jared withdrew the golden shield. His face had gone paper-white, his breathing unsteady, saving those few dozen survivors had drained nearly all of his strength, and he had possessed nowhere near the power required to rescue the rest.
"Why? Why didn't you save our clan leader? You could have!" the white-robed youth snarled, fixing Jared with a gaze that burned with accusation.
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