Lana
We were truly in.
The footsteps of our forces shook the lands of the Fae. Dust and magic filled the air, and the world twisted into a battlefield of ruin. Row upon row of High Elf stood firm—but we were more than ready.
What we hadn't fully accounted for… were the Mages of the Arcane Spire.
They were far stronger than they appeared—too strong.
Blinding flashes of bluish-purple light split the sky. Ancient incantations rained down like invisible arrows. When one of our shadow beasts leapt through the elves' defenses, its body was instantly disintegrated by compressed magic.
"Arcane Spire," Sylas muttered, his face tightening. "They're a real pain."
Kaelith hissed under his breath. "I've always hated them."
I watched an explosion ripple across the eastern flank, where winged demons tried to breach through the air. But it wasn't fire—it was accelerated time. The demons aged and rotted in seconds, falling like dust to the ground.
