The air between Vell and Endrith seemed to harden. They did not want it to be empty anymore.
Vell raised his hand first. No words, no incantation. Threads of raw power curled around his fingers. The marble floor under his boots cracked from the sudden weight of his magic.
Endrith finally moved. Not much, just one hand lifting from the armrest, palm open, his gaze aimed directly at Vell.
Vell's power lashed out. It should have burned through anything, even stone, but the king's gesture caught it midair. It twisted in on itself, folding and folding, and then vanished.
Vell had expected that. Endrith's power was as great as he had imagined it to be.
He raised both hands now, pulling heat from the air and frost from the ground, dragging lightning down from the heavens. The room filled with light, blue, red, and white, until it seemed the walls would burst.
Endrith stood.
It was not hurried, but the movement felt inevitable.
The mask's glow brightened, and the magic Vell had summoned bent toward it and then broke into many pieces.
Vell changed tactics. He didn't hurl magic. He used his staff.
The staff began to move on its own, pivoting, angling, and then firing.
A storm of magic bolts erupted from it in rapid succession, streaking toward the Irath King from every direction, above and below, ricocheting from the walls to find angles no mortal archer could have managed.
The bolts struck first, hundreds in seconds, each one powerful enough to tear apart an armored knight.
They vanished against the King's skin of light like rain hitting an ocean.
No reaction. No step back.
In the meanwhile, Vell dug into his satchel, hands moving with grim precision.
Out came a crystal sphere, pulsing faintly with the shimmer of trapped lightning. He charged it and then hurled it at the king.
Before it touched the ground, it exploded into a cage of writhing arcs.
Showing no hesitation, Vell was already pulling another artifact free: a dark shard of a mirror wrapped in cloth.
He whispered to it, vanished in a blink, reappeared at Endrith's flank, and struck for the mask. A shockwave rippled through the throne room, throwing debris into the air like a sandstorm.
The king caught Vell's wrist without looking.
There was a heartbeat's pause, then a pulse of golden energy flung Vell backward, smashing him into a pillar hard enough to split it in half.
He got up. Slowly.
He opened his satchel again and reached for something deeper inside, his fingers brushing over items he swore he'd never use unless the world's end demanded it.
It seemed today qualified.