Words were spoken, and anger was felt. Even the lesser gods, who were just minding their business and trying to survive, caught a few strays from Damon. Suddenly, any type of conflict felt meaningless before the conflict of personal interest, and that was to rip that no-good demon wretch to pieces.
Ashergon felt his scales tingle when he saw the battlefield beginning to move towards them. They were still fighting each other, but they also began moving towards Damon. As they did, Damon saw the true horror of the Pillar when the red energy began to spread outward.
His hands gripped his sword, then he waved his hand, forming a wall of shadows and pushing it in the direction of the encroaching red energy.
The shadows passed through without resistance. After all, it wasn't exactly energy. It was something, but Damon couldn't define it or even give it an identity. Perhaps it was simply conflict.
