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The bolts arced across the sky, filling the horizon and making the desert itself quake from the dozens of sonic booms going off simultaneously.

Needless to say, the attacks from the light-wielders came to an abrupt end. The lightning shredded their ranks, sending them in all different directions--a few of which were down toward the ground in charred heaps.

The dark of night returned as the afterimage of the bolts faded, but more light was already beginning to arrive--this time from the Vannies' end.

Specifically, from Jackson.

Morgunov didn't budge, though. He'd fought the Star of the West before, of course, but not for many years. He was curious what the fiery fella could do, what with all the gossip surrounding him. Some were even saying that he was on the level of an emperor now.

Wishful thinking, most likely. But heck, if it turned out to be true, then Morgunov would actually be quite pleased to welcome another member into the fold. There hadn't been a new emperor in over three hundred years. In fact, the last one to achieve that status was none other than himself. It would be nice not to be the new guy in the office, anymore.

Of course, there'd been many claims of new emperors over those three hundred years. Too many to count, quite frankly. And the Mad Demon had greatly enjoyed putting those claimants to the test. The other emperors rarely ever seemed to care about such things, but they were boring, so that wasn't too surprising. He was only too happy to serve as the "gatekeeper" for their little clique.

So when the horizon began to come alive with fire, Morgunov's smile only widened.

It was a bit like watching the sunrise. Only, he knew that the sun hated him and wanted to reduce him to ashes.

Then again, maybe that wasn't too different from the real sun.