The chain whirled like black lightning in Kael's hands.
The metallic weight roared through the air, each link striking sparks as it slammed into the stone. He wielded it not like a prisoner trying to escape, but like a gladiator armed with his own misfortune. The chains, once signs of powerlessness, were now extensions of his body—whips of fury.
The woman took two steps back, the runes whirling around her like flaming gears. Each word she whispered molded the energy into new forms: spears, whips, walls of blue fire that appeared to block the blows.
Kael advanced fearlessly.
With a twist, he hurled the chain against the magical barrier. The impact was a thunderclap. The stone around the rune cracked, dust and embers falling like rain. The metal hissed on contact, searing the markings that bound it, but Kael didn't hesitate: he pulled back and attacked again, each blow like a hammer trying to demolish the impossible.
She countered.
