There was no earth-shattering explosion.
Only absolute nothingness.
Everything within a twenty-meter radius of the point of impact.
The soil, the rocks, the dust from the previous attacks, the suspended particles in the air, and even the lingering embers of Energy from that strange Flame.
It all vanished.
Not pulverized, not vaporized, but cleanly erased from the canvas of reality as if by a master eraser, leaving behind a perfectly cylindrical chasm with mirror-smooth edges and no discernible bottom.
The walls of the chasm had the unique, vitrified texture that comes from instantaneous exposure to extreme heat and pressure, shimmering with a dull luster.
The range of Destruction was controlled with extreme precision; the ground beyond the chasm hadn't even felt a tremor.
This kind of pinpoint control over Power was more terrifying than mere destructive force.
Roland's figure was, of course, also within the "erased" area.
