"My Lord!" The old man prayed with a trembling voice, "Has the war of the heavens descended upon us?"
The young people in the caravan were equally shocked, unable to speak.
They saw fire dragons flying in the sky, magma erupting from the earth, and those beautiful yet terrifying auroras, filling their hearts with unprecedented awe.
At another nomadic tribe's camp, the chieftain gazed at the distant anomalies, his eyes filled with shock and longing.
"Is that... the power of a Wizard?"
His voice was filled with deep reverence and undisguised yearning:
"The legendary divine power that can summon wind and rain, move mountains and overturn seas..."
The tribe's warriors tightly gripped the scimitars in their hands.
But faced with such incomprehensible power, these cold weapons seemed so pale and powerless.
They were both fearful and yearning, like moths drawn to a flame.
A young herdsman pointed at the fire whirlwinds in the sky, his voice trembling:
