Primus roared and flames burst out of him, his aura pressing down like a furnace. The human Masters flinched but didn't scatter. They were trained, disciplined, and they closed in with steady steps, cutting off every escape route.
Primus swung his arm, a wave of fire exploding outward and forcing the closest men to retreat. For a second, I thought he might actually push through. His body was battered, ribs cracked, blood dripping from his mouth, but his will was frightening.
The ground trembled, and suddenly thick walls of stone erupted around him. One of the Masters, a heavyset man in iron armor slammed his palms into the ground, raising an earthen dome that swallowed Primus completely.
For a moment, only muffled roars and firelight bled through the cracks.
Then the dome glowed red, veins of molten heat spreading across it. With a deafening explosion, Primus tore free, his flames spiraling into the night.
