The wind howled across the barren wasteland as Zane stood tall, eyes calm, posture unshaken. Lucen removed his cloak, the fabric vanishing with a flicker of magic, revealing his battle-ready attire beneath. His aura shifted—the calm, composed professor was gone. Now stood Lucen Merrith, the 8th Circle Battle Mage.
With a sudden boom, Lucen launched himself toward Zane.
Zane didn't flinch.
Each of Lucen's blows met with flawless defense—parried, dodged, or deflected. Zane moved as if he'd already read the fight.
Lucen's eyes narrowed. "Let's turn up the heat."
He slammed his palm into the ground. A massive 7th Circle Spell activated:
Volcano's Grasp.
The earth trembled. Cracks tore across the battlefield, glowing with red-hot magma. From the fissures burst obsidian tendrils laced with flowing lava—magma tentacles that writhed and lashed out.
