The pulse of energy crashed into the tip of Lyrium's greatsword, a blinding explosion of light and sound.
Sparks flew, debris scattered in every direction, and the air around him seemed to warp like water over heat.
"...Ha! Not bad, not bad at all,"
Lyrium muttered, twisting the blade to deflect a second strike.
"I was hoping you'd make this interesting. A little chaos, a little drama. Perfect for a Tuesday, or whatever day it is when the world decides to throw tantrums at me."
The entity didn't speak.
It moved, pulsated, and shifted in ways that made the air itself feel unstable, almost alive.
Its attacks weren't predictable, but Lyrium was already reading the rhythm, matching it with subtle shifts in stance, arcs of his blade, and quiet, precise sparks of lightning coiling along his arms.
"You know,"
He said aloud, voice casual despite the tension,
