Lindarion's expression didn't change. But the air around him did. Heat shimmered faintly at his shoulders, like sunlight through smoke.
The priest's smile faded at last.
"I came for answers," Lindarion said. "I'll leave with them."
The man's voice was lower now. "Then you won't leave."
Lindarion's mana surged without warning. Not a blast. Not an attack.
Just presence.
The divine affinity lit the ground beneath his feet in a soft, pulsing ring of gold. Not bright enough to blind. Just enough to draw the boundary between them.
"You'll try to stop me?"
"I will pray over your ashes."
A beat passed.
Then Lindarion's hand moved.
Only an inch.
But enough.
—
The moment the priest moved, the torches on the far wall died.
No wind. No sound. Just extinguished. Snuffed out like candles drowned underwater.
