A festering wound

"What is the situation?" Pelaros asked, woken when someone tried to move him. His body was still too battered to move itself, his body covered in countless wounds.

"Sir, you need to rest." One of the three people carrying him replied. 

"I can't... I'm assuming we won, but..."

"Sir, please focus on recovering."

Nodding, Pelaros tried to summon his magic to start healing himself. Sadly, he found himself unable to do even that. He was drained, completely and utterly. But it seemed to be even more than that.

"Wait! Stop!"

"What is it?" 

"That man... Elf, bring him too."

"Is that?"

Pelaros nodded. 

***

"What happened?" Itireae asked, landing softly next to Mneme. Everyone had kept their distance from the roc, no one dared approach it. 

Mneme indicated to the craters beyond the walls. Looking at it, Itireae struggle to comprehend what could cause such damage. Considering that the strongest were only Tier 8.