A searing light burst from the center of the Grand Expedition army and shot into the sky.
It pierced through Vlad's blood sigil like a spear, shattering it instantly.
Vlad turned his head toward the light.
He didn't react at first, but a flicker of surprise crossed his face.
The thirty-six Fabled-ranked beings within the Expedition were killed within the first attack.
Even if some had survived, none of them should've had the power to destroy the sigil.
Vlad was the Second Great Disaster.
He would go as far as to say he was the strongest among the three.
Nyxtharion was the history's first Necromancer. Kane was a Sword Saint.
But Vlad was the one who had touched the Blood Sea, and could control it. Even if it was only barely.
He had been the one to flood the worlds with Blood Sea when Tartarus had deemed them evil, then slowly dragged them into the Tartarus' Nightmare.
So how did someone destroy his spell?
Two figures stepped forward through the settling light.
