The gambling boss's attack finally shattered the water dome Clayton had summoned. As the barrier crumbled, the spell's backlash struck Clayton, leaving him temporarily paralyzed.
Seizing the opening, the boss surged forward, chanting another spell.
"Wind Magic: Wind Slash!"
Whoosh!
A green crescent of wind energy sliced through the air at blinding speed. With no time to dodge, Clayton took the full brunt of the attack.
"Arghh!"
A deep gash tore across his torso—from stomach to chest—as blood poured from the wound.
The boss sneered.
"So? Ready to submit and work for me now?"
He clearly hadn't meant to kill Clayton—at least not yet. The boy was still far too valuable. But Clayton, writhing in pain and focused entirely on his injury, didn't even hear the question.
Frustrated by the lack of response, the boss scowled. He had shown restraint, and yet it was met with silence.
Soaked, cold, and now seething, he began preparing another, more punishing spell.
