The sky convulsed as Gale moved.
The winged undead didn't hesitate. With a single beat of his enormous wings, the air shattered into a cascade of pressure waves.
Wind howled like blades, every gust carrying shards of condensed mana that sliced through the formation of Awakeners above.
Gale didn't let up—wave after wave of mixed attacks poured out of him: compressed wind lances and raw slashes of mana that tore through the very sky.
The disciplined formations of the flying Awakeners broke instantly. Some raised barriers, others countered with their own spells, but it was like throwing sand against a flood.
Entire clusters of students were flung aside, screaming as they plummeted from the air.
Shock hit the gathered Awakeners like a hammer.
They had come expecting something else. At worst, they thought they'd face some nasty tricks or hidden trump cards. But this… this was something else entirely.
