With the final clash of steel, that tall, demon-god-like figure that had seemed invincible finally fell.
The longsword in Constance's hands snapped in two. At the last moment, she infused the blade with the power of thunder. Under Grand Duke Owen's desperate protection, she finally found an opening and successfully pierced through Brundin's breastplate.
The violent power of thunder burrowed into Brundin through the hole in his breastplate, destroying everything inside the armor—regardless of whether what lay within was still human flesh. After enduring countless devastating blows, this decisive strike finally exhausted his strength. Even the Annihilation Power could no longer make him stand again.
Constance stood dazed. She stared blankly at the broken sword in her hand, as though she still had not come to her senses after the battle. It was only when a soldier behind her dropped his weapon that she realized it was finally over.
She surveyed the great hall—or rather, the ruins of what had once been a palace. Everywhere she looked were broken bricks and tiles amid the collapsed wreckage. Most of the hall had caved in during the battle. Only half of its magnificent vaulted ceiling remained, hanging precariously above them, while the other half lay shattered across the floor.
Heavy rain poured unhindered through the broken vault, washing over the devastated place. In the surging water, thick crimson blood flowed everywhere.
Between the collapsed walls and ruins, the hands and feet of buried soldiers could be seen sticking out. Their owners had paid with their lives to give Constance every opportunity to attack. Now they had lost all sign of life, while the surviving warriors staggered among the ruins, silently gathering the bodies of their comrades.
Charlemagne had lost an arm. A block of ice had frozen around his shoulder to stop