The moment the words "Now it's time to get serious" left Elius's lips, the very fabric of the battlefield shifted.
A crushing stillness fell over everything. The crackling of residual lightning from Zhark's fists dimmed into silence. Fraven's telekinetic hold trembled as if the pressure around it was being squeezed by an invisible force. Shania's illusions flickered and bent at the edges, as though even the light itself no longer trusted what it was seeing.
And then the swords moved.
No warning. No burst of power. Just a ripple of motion—so fluid, so terrifyingly graceful—that even time seemed caught off guard.
