Blackness mingled with thin white mist. Aaron knelt on one knee, blood streaming from his nostrils. The Child of Chaos sorrowfully brushed his hand over Moradin's Thunderous Divine Incantation scroll, now drained of divine power, his heart aching at the loss.
Moradin's full-strength strike had not been intended for Be'lakor, but under the circumstances, Aaron had been forced to use it.
The air tasted bitter. Vast quantities of Jilun's Water had evaporated in Be'lakor's explosion, leaving a blanket of white vapor. The pungent odor of the Chaos energy dispersed after the Shadowlord's defeat made Aaron cough incessantly. He cast a Healing Magic spell on himself, felt the turbulent magic within his body, and silently surveyed the scene before him.
He desperately wanted to see Be'lakor's corpse, but there was none. He had defeated Be'lakor and banished him, but he had not killed him.
The Original Daemon Prince remained a threat. Next time, however, there would be no Thunderous Divine Incantation from Moradin to deliver the banishing blow.
"You did very well, guest of House Moonflower." The Elf Lich Belsa the Incomprehensible floated over from nearby. Having just cast Wish, the lich's magic had noticeably diminished, and his movements had slowed. Belsa approached Aaron and gazed in the direction where Be'lakor had vanished. "You have eliminated an enormous threat. You are now permitted to leave Myth Drannor safely."
"You really are heartless." Aaron glanced at the approaching Elf Lich. "I think I at least solved a major problem for you."
"Perhaps you did, perhaps you did not," Belsa, the Elf Lich, said in his dry voice. "I do not care about such things. Everything is settled now. Allowing you to leave Myth Drannor safely is the greatest mercy I can offer you. You are human, after all. This place is not