Chosen Representatives

Though it looked grievous, the wound atop Abaddon's head healed in a matter of seconds, and his horn quickly regrew.

The smoke and ash had finally begun to clear from the area, and Abaddon found his father lying on the ground underneath him.

However… he looked to be in a bad way.

Practically all of his beautiful silver scales were melted, and even his wings and facial features were almost morbidly unrecognizable.

However, Asmodeus had ended up on the better side of Abaddon's flames.

If he were not made directly from his son's own blood, or if Abaddon had increased the output of flame by even a little, there wouldn't be anything left of him to save.

Abaddon's multiple aspects converged back into a single one, and he returned to his normal more human appearance.

His feet touched the shattered ground right beside the old dragon's head, and he placed a hand over the snout of the beast.