The fighting between everyone had only grown fiercer, and as the pressure rose, Ibarin was ramping up his attacks as well. He could no longer rely on the support of the other Principals to make this fight easy for him.
Slashing gusts of wind spun from his arms at terrifying speed, one after another, each one sharp enough to split stone. He cast them without pause, his movements fluid and precise, and the strikes came so quickly they blurred. Then, from a glowing ring on his finger, Ibarin pulled out a small spherical object and hurled it into the air.
It floated above him, spinning as a glowing magic circle flared to life above his head. The same type of slashing wind attacks he'd been releasing from his hands began streaming endlessly from the floating orb as well. It was as if three invisible arms were launching blades of compressed air from different angles, each of them carrying the crushing power of a Nine-Star Mage.
