Elius stood alone atop the shattered battlefield, wind howling through the gaping scars in the floating earth. His coat fluttered violently behind him.
Dust spun in small spirals, curling at his feet like snakes retreating into the sand. The air still trembled from the magician's teleportation spell, the residue of space-bending magic sharp and unnatural.
He narrowed his eyes at the spot where Keith and the others had vanished—his irises glowing faintly with silver light.
"Damn magician…" Elius muttered, brushing a speck of debris from his shoulder. "A reverse cube tether and time-step displacement in one breath. That kind of casting strain should've torn his mana circuits. But he made it work."
He exhaled, planting his fingers against the cracked stone beneath him. He pressed down, drawing spiritual energy from the world through his palm. Immediately, everything slowed.
The flow of Qi wrapped around his senses like thin silk.
He entered a state of Hyper Perception.
