Only ruins remained of the land where the star had fallen.
At least the outer reaches of Alphenhauser Castle still retained their original shape, but the closer one approached the center of the impact, the lower the buildings became. In the end, they were nearly level with the ground itself.
All of this had been caused by a single strike.
If he had wanted to, he probably could have simply sliced the castle cleanly in two. There were, in fact, traces of exactly that left behind on the first floor. One only had to look at the diagonally severed walls still fitted together to know that the person responsible for this devastation possessed that much skill.
And yet, for the castle to have been reduced to such a miserable state.
There was no conclusion to draw except that it had been deliberate.
And indeed, there had been reason enough. To sweep away every last trace of the mud’s contamination, which had spread into every corner of the castle, such a drastic decision must have been necessary.
Reason and emotion, however, were separate matters.
That remained true even for an Alphenhauser. No matter how skilled they were at calculation, how could they quickly recover from the shock of seeing the home that served as the very symbol of their family collapse?