Rowan could barely stand. The burst of golden light spewing from his body upon the destruction of his soul had begun to slow to a trickle, and now his size has shrunken once more.
The blood of his dimensional soul, like liquid starlight, poured out of the numerous lacerations all over his body, dripping into the void. However, unlike the deaths of his dimensional soul, which released his vitality and were then seized by the stars of death that were still overhead and feeding upon his seemingly endless lifeforce, the blood of his dimensional soul could be used before it was all gone.
Rowan smiled in sadness and raised his left hand.
And Reality answered.
®
Rowan's command over spells was unmatched, but he had always preferred fighting with the blade. Being close up with the enemy, where everything was placed in the line, and he had to be beyond perfect in order to win, was a massive thrill to his senses.
