A final burst propelled him downward, and all three sons looked up…
Teral's heart stopped.
He saw eyes.
Cold.
Emotionless.
Death itself had put on a skin of fire.
"Mommy…" he whimpered.
And then…
The fire-wreathed fist came down.
An explosion detonated across the coliseum. It was the wrath of a falling sun itself. The arena ruptured under the impact. Stone erupted in all directions while a magma-like light swallowed everything around itself in a roaring inferno.
The newly restored protective barriers shattered in layers, one after another, until only a single layer remained.
High above, in the royal balcony, Queen Morgana's eyes lit up.
Below her, the court mages were already drenched in sweat, hands trembling as they fed their mana into the faltering defenses. Even the archmage among them had gone pale, teeth gritted, lips moving in frantic incantation.
It wasn't enough.
The last layer wavered.
