"Oh, so that's how we're doing it?"
Orson blinked, then couldn't help laughing.
The bizarre machine life didn't just throw his signature fire spell; its slowly reknit frame was now draped in a War Supreme robe. No set bonuses, looked mostly cosmetic, but the way it moved had some real Archmage swagger.
Especially the opener: flick the fringe, twitch the staff, cast. Exactly like him. The thing really had studied the church of Mage.
A black sunburst six-pointed sigil flared. A dark-as-ink flame dragon slammed down.
"Magic elements?"
Orson's eyes thinned. "No. They're converting some other energy into elemental output."
"The area is enormous…"
Darulunina stared up, stunned. The instant the dragon hit, its elemental body billowed to several times size, its coverage almost a hundred meters.
"Great. Dragon-curse conversion."
Orson frowned. He'd assumed too much. The thing had no set effects, but the runic socketing on its staff was very real.
