The skies themselves shuddered at the sudden twist of fate.
First came Malrik's impossible arrival.
Then... the horror that followed.
With a flick of his goblin staff, the air screamed.
The Federation's fleet of Storm Discs. The hundreds of flying war-engines Ashreth had painstakingly built over centuries... They were all caught in the eruption of magic.
In an instant, they were torn apart like paper in a storm.
One hundred war-discs. Five hundred soldiers each.
Fifty thousand lives. They were erased in the blink of an eye.
No one had foreseen this.
And the look on Malrik and Ashreth's face proved it wasn't friendly fire.
It looked deliberate.
"Damn it!" Lucien's eyes widened.
He was caught off guard. He hadn't expected these two to stand together.
Lucien then lunged toward Malrik.
The phoenix had no fixed form. He was flame incarnate, a fire made will. Burning a shard of his own soul, he unleashed wave after wave of searing light.
