The scorched plain shuddered beneath their feet as if the very bones of the world were rebelling against the chaos unleashed. The Flamebound Legion surged outward in waves, each warrior a being sculpted of molten stone and living fire, their war cries like the roaring of collapsing volcanoes.
Zephyr stood at the forefront, his cloak torn and his blade glowing faintly with stormlight. Across from him, Pyraxis loomed, a towering inferno given form, his ember-forged armor glistening like liquid fire.
"Your storm burns bright," Pyraxis growled, his voice like coals ground together. "But even storms tire. Fire consumes until nothing remains."
Zephyr tightened his grip on his sword, electricity crackling around him. "We'll see whose flame lasts longer."
