The Thunder God Spear Werther had thrown shrieked through the air.
The Thunder God Spear flew faster and faster, a faint afterimage trailing behind it.
At last, when its Speed reached the limit, it struck the ground beneath the Indigenous People's feet.
There was no explosion, as one might have expected.
On impact, the Thunder God Spear first contracted into a fist-sized black sphere, like a miniature black hole.
Then it began to exert a tremendous pull, drawing in the surrounding earth and nearby Indigenous People. The force of that pull, combined with its highly compressed energy, reduced everything to dust.
Finally, when it reached some kind of limit, the Thunder God Spear erupted in a massive explosion.
Boom.
The shock wave hurled great sheets of earth into the air. The unfortunate Indigenous People were vaporized by the Thunder God Spear's immense power and heat.
White light consumed the Forest and the Indigenous People's settlement. Everything within half a kilometer was caught in it.
Anything swept up in the terrifying energy of the Thunder God Spear's explosion turned to dust.
Even Werther, high in the air, was flung upward by the shock wave. For a moment, he lost his bearings.
A dozen or so seconds later, the Thunder God Spear's blast faded. The Indigenous People were gone without a trace. The ground had been swept perfectly smooth, as though an invisible hand had passed over it. Neat, but desolate.
There was only one exception: a dark blue mass.
It was the Indigenous People's king, their mightiest Leader.
But the Frost Dragon the old man had become was in a wretched state.
Much of his flesh was charred. Both his wings were gone, and even his once-ferocious dragon head was slightly misshapen.
Werther descended and walked up to the Frost Dragon.