But this was no ordinary blaze. The azure flame clung, devouring necrotic essence. Where the black mist tried to escape, the fire latched on, consuming it until nothing remained, not even ash.
Kelvin staggered under the backlash. The bond writhed like a fraying rope. His vision was blurred, as though his own throat burned with that impossible flame.
He nearly collapsed, but he forced himself upright while gripping his spear like an anchor. If Xerion could bear the fire, so could he.
The Hollow screamed in response, its chorus of voices twisted in agony. For the first time, the swarm did not reform. The cycle broke at least where Xerion's fire fell.
But the swarm did not halt. More beasts lunged, a tide too vast for even blue fire to hold. Lyra's arms shook as she loosed another volley, her arrows bended impossibly, piercing eyes and throats. But even her precision felt small against this sea of horror.
