The world twisted around him, like the night sky itself had been pulled into a whirlpool.
Snow and shadow swirled together in sickening patterns, it was very disorienting.
Ding!
[Kyone's Blessing is reacting… You are immune to Stat reductions.]
The words flared across Azel's vision like carved light.
Then, just as abruptly as it had begun, the spinning stopped.
The suffocating pressure ebbed away.
The world snapped into focus.
The battlefield stretched out around him once more — the Divide bleeding its purple light into the night, the endless snow crunching beneath boots, and the tide of shrieking spirits.
Yet where Azel stood clear-headed, the others faltered.
Veyra's sharp eyes darted at shadows that weren't there.
Anya's knuckles were white against her blade, her breathing shallow as though fighting something only she could see.
Anthony's grip trembled, his spear wavering.
