Sylas exhaled a steaming breath, his eye splitting into an illusion of twelve over his helm. Auras of violet and emerald twisted and spun into one another, the world trembling as his output increased from +10,000 to over +20,000.
There was a dense flicker in his eyes and the world was culled.
In a blink, Zolte had appeared before him, his halberd striking out, but Sylas' tail arched through the air in an almost elegant swing. It felt like it was following the natural motion of the world, Runes bending and forging around it as his telekinesis made the limb—one which carried no weight at all—carry the momentum of a falling meteor.
BANG.
Tail and halberd met, the former slapping the latter away in a torrent of sparks while Sylas' palm slammed into Zolte's chest.
Zolte took a single step back, his halberd careening backward under the momentum of Sylas' strike and sparking more as it tried and failed to cut into the hard marble floors.
