The cathedral groaned as a hundred magic circles appeared at once, emitting a pressure no less than the Pope's aura. The air crackled with mana, and a dozen futures flickered through my mind, all filled with imminent death. As I scanned the spells for familiar runes, I was surprised to see most of them were defensive.
I cast Fate an uneasy glance, but she wore a carefree smile. "It's foolish to underestimate an elder goddess," she murmured. "Even after millennia of decline and my fall from grace, my foundations are deeper than you could imagine. Be grateful for our alliance, Magic; for its sake, I will allow your arrogance to pass."
The magic circles slowed, seeming to freeze mid-weave. The tension was sharp enough to slice wards, yet I couldn't look away. The runes were so beautiful and delicate, like flowers, far surpassing even my newest work.
