Trevor, Lamair, and Seraphina crashed through the battlefield, their bodies carving deep trenches in the shattered earth. Dust and debris rose in thick clouds, but before they could settle, the air trembled with power.
The three of them stood up. Slowly. Painfully. But they stood.
Trevor wiped the blood from his lips, his eyes burning like molten stars. Lamair rolled his shoulders, his missing arm fully regenerated, his death aura crackling with intensity. Seraphina's hair flared wide, her body mending itself with waves of radiant energy.
Luciel watched, his expression unreadable, but there was the faintest glimmer of something in his eyes. Annoyance? Interest?
Trevor exhaled, his breath coming out in thick, red mist. "Again."
He didn't wait for the others. He surged forward, a blur of crimson light. The tattoos on his body pulsed wildly as his blood magic erupted, forming hundreds of crimson lances that shot toward Luciel at blinding speed.
