Within the few seconds the two sorceresses were silently whispering,
the swirling clouds in the sky, driven by Hen's will, quickly moved directly above the distant battle zone between Karl and the Spitfire Demon.
In the thick clouds, lightning flashed and thunder rumbled, as if a storm could strike at any moment.
Karl had long heard the commotion on the cliff top and the magical fluctuations overhead – it was the Arzu's Thunderbolt spell he had given Triss to study.
But the power over heaven and earth unleashed by Hen was far greater than he had imagined.
He knew in his heart who the caster was, but Borch did not and still needed his reminder.
At that moment, Hen's calm telepathic voice echoed in the minds of Karl and Borch.
"Karl, this golden dragon is your friend? Its transformation technique is extremely masterful, virtually without flaw."
"You don't need to be distracted by what's above. I can control where the thunder falls."
Before he finished speaking, a dazzling white light instantly illuminated the dim world.
CRACKLE!! Immediately after, a deafening clap of thunder rang out.
This was only the beginning, just as Hen had said – silver lightning bolts as thick as barrels.
They were not chaotic slashes, but one after another, densely packed, like a torrential downpour.
They continuously struck the Spitfire Demon below, its body covered in thick armor.
BOOM! BANG! BANG! BANG! The thunderous roars were relentless, painfully shaking the eardrums.
Each lightning bolt left a barely visible white mark on the Spitfire Demon's carapace.
Bright electric sparks burst out, and arcs of lightning scattered everywhere, turning the surrounding ground into chaos.
Karl and Borch exchanged a glance, both seeing the surprise in each other's eyes.
They tacitly suspended their attacks, retreating slightly and hovering in the air to observe the aftermath of the thunderstorm.
At this moment, the Spitfire Demon had already taken heavy damage in the previous close-quarters battle with Karl and Borch.
Most of its carapace had fallen off, revealing the dark red, writhing muscles beneath; nearly a third of its sharp limbs were broken.
Pale green, foul-smelling blood gushed from the wounds like a small stream, staining a vast area pale green.
However, when Karl and Borch looked closely, they noticed that the wounds on its body were writhing and healing at a speed visible to the naked eye.
The flesh at the base of broken legs was growing wildly, and the edges of broken shell pieces were slowly healing.
The thunder controlled by Hen struck the Spitfire Demon's carapace, and most of the energy was forcibly neutralized and dissipated by the strange shell, like a clay ox entering the sea.
Only a small part of the energy penetrated inside, causing limited damage.
Or it would transform into scattered electrical arcs, blasting the nearby ground into a whirlwind of magma and crystallized rocks.
The Spitfire Demon seemed to sense that this thunderous attack posed no threat to it, coiling its massive body, wounded but still rapidly healing.
Its fierce head raised high, looking at the thunderclouds in the sky, emitting a series of low, crackling screeches.
This voice was no longer just pain and anger, but mixed with a clear, undisguised mockery.
It mocked the seemingly majestic lightning, saying it wasn't even worth a tickle.
It didn't even bother to dodge, only slightly changing its posture and using its relatively intact carapace to withstand the lightning strikes.
On the distant cliff top, Hen saw through the swirling smoke and lightning, observing the Spitfire Demon's reaction.
His face remained calm, showing not the slightest anger at the spell's poor effect or the opponent's mockery.
For a sorcerer who had lived so long, spells were not all-powerful tools; if they didn't work, he would find another way.
He had long since passed the age where his emotions wildly fluctuated over fleeting successes and failures.
He telepathically asked Karl: "Karl, what is your ultimate plan for this Spitfire Demon?"
"Should we kill it and permanently eliminate future trouble? Or try to banish it and send it back to its original domain?"
"If the latter, I can prepare the appropriate banishing spell right now. Although it's difficult, it's not impossible."
Karl quickly replied in his mind: "Teacher, I'm going to try first... to tame it. If I truly cannot make it submit, then consider killing it."
"If such a powerful assistant could be used by me, it could play an unexpected role in future battles against enemies."
"Tame a Spitfire Demon?" Hearing Karl's answer, Hen was silent for a moment inside.
This idea had become synonymous with taboo and impossibility in the world of sorcerers ever since the blood of Arzu and those sorcerers stained their history.
The spells they were proud of proved almost useless against the opponent.
When mortal armies crumble before it, who would dare to think of "taming" this creature? Only his student dared to do so.
On the other hand, Borch, flapping its wings to stay afloat, sparks flying from its dragon mouth as it exhaled dragon's breath,
was a bit out of breath, a look of fatigue and helplessness on its face: "Karl, can this thing really be killed? Its damned self-healing ability is almost on par with yours!"
"It almost completely ignores my spells; I... I can barely help."
Being a proud golden dragon, feeling powerless against enemies was extremely frustrating for Borch.
Karl nodded slightly upon hearing this, his gaze falling on the Spitfire Demon below, which was still mocking the thundercloud while its body rapidly healed.
"Earlier, I just wanted to see what tricks it had and to warm up. But now that I understand, I won't play with it anymore."
"Play?!" Borch was completely stunned, its body nearly losing balance as it flapped its wings.
It had been trying for so long to use its dragon's breath and lightning, but in Karl's eyes, the fierce battle just now was merely "playing"?
The majestic lines on its dragon face were compressed into a complex expression of disbelief mixed with slight grievance.
It wanted to say something, to show that it hadn't been holding back on purpose...
But the next moment, an indescribable sense of danger that made Borch shudder was like ice water flooding its entire body.
Its golden dragon eyes suddenly narrowed into two thin lines, almost instinctively.
Suddenly, it flapped its wings, its body moving with agility surpassing its size, desperately soaring higher into the sky, trying to escape the source of danger.
Its gaze was fixed on Karl, who hovered in the air and slowly raised his right hand.
In his palm, a pure, warm golden light suddenly shone brightly.
In an instant, the golden light rapidly expanded and compressed into golden lightning, as thick as an ordinary person's arm, but compressed as if tangible.