"That was satisfying." Muria looked around, everything was covered in giant claw marks and seemingly endless trenches, deep fist holes, and craters with a radius of at least several hundred meters.
Flames lingered all around, arcs of lightning flickering, and occasionally a dark red glow flashed across the sky, carrying an endless murderous intent. These were the remnants of divine power left behind after the dragon hunters' attack. This place had turned into a barren land, unfit for the survival of ordinary creatures.
"If a legendary battle were to take place on the ground, the victor has the obligation to clean up all remaining energy." Muria murmured to herself as she stared at the devastated area in front of her.
The power of legends could change the terrain of the world. These changes meant nothing to the world, mountains and hills, plains and basins.