Now his entire body was behind the door, using it like a shield. The staff protruded through the slit like a spear, and Kael's grip tightened around the leather-wrapped handle.
"Please hold," he almost prayed to the door to not break apart and protect him in case shit hits the fan, he didn't have a choice but to pray.
He took a couple of breaths, slow, controlled, and willed his mana into the staff.
Immediately, a fire explosion rumbled from behind the door.
Not a neat jet. Not a clean flame wave. More like the staff coughed and detonated at the same time. Heat slammed into the steel door, and the sound hit Kael's chest like a drum. He couldn't even open his eyes to see properly; his lids clenched shut on instinct as hot air rolled around the edges. Thankfully, the door held, and he didn't get fried in the process. Somewhere deep down, he was thankful for this flimsy protection.
But he realized one thing instantly.
He had to let go of the metal staff immediately.
