"Pop!"
The domain of corruption and assimilation disintegrated at the sound, as dark green moss withered and fell away instantly. Kalsa collapsed in exhaustion on the cold root steps, gasping for air, each breath laced with the stench of ice shards and decay, each exhale turning into a thin mist of gray-green. Her frost shield completely vanished, exposing the gray marks left by the corrosion underneath her tattered robe, her breath weak like a flickering candle in the wind.
Lynch's figure stood quietly on the upper step, his gray robe almost blending into the shadowy background of the stairs. He withdrew his hand, and the last ripple of rule fluctuation at his fingertips settled into calm.
"Cough… cough…" Kalsa barely suppressed the surging blood within her, the icy blue eyes still lingering in shock, mixed with an overwhelming sense of gratitude.
