Yah'hoar pulled the special potion from his belt. He still didn't understand what it was supposed to do, but he did understand how to activate it. Normally, he would never have taken such a risk—but this was his last chance.
Imbacil began casting one of his soul potions and shouted, "Where is the reservoir?"
Yah'hoar couldn't afford to let him finish the spell. Imbacil was a master soul-body caster, and he had countless potions that could completely nullify Yah'Hoar's powers and leave him exposed to Imbacil's longbow.
Luckily, most soul-body potions had an extremely complex mana structure, which led to longer casting time.
Yah'hoar had no potions capable of reaching Imbacil, who stood atop the Statue of Light—an act of unthinkable sacrilege. All he could do was hope the potion would reach him and turn the battle for his favor.
Yah'hoar took a deep breath and began channeling his mana into the potion's structure. For a relic so ancient and legendary, its mana pattern was surprisingly simple — and for a master mage like Yah'Hoar, it took only a few seconds to complete the spell.
A sharp pain tore through his body, His breath caught, he had never felt such pain from casting a single potion. As the pain surged, the bottle burst apart, releasing a massive sphere of blazing white fire.
Imbacil's smug expression shattered, replaced by sheer terror.
The sphere struck him and exploded. Yah'hoar stared, stunned, as the white fire engulfed the holy statue and Imbacil vaporized instantly. Yah'hoar blinked, realizing the white fire was beginning to spread.
Snapping back to himself, he turned and fled. He felt the heat on his back — and suddenly, something leapt at him from within the flames.
"I failed" Yah'hoar thought "Without that potion reservoir, the Western Kingdoms will be conquered by the Khanturian Empire, I have to—"