The Captain turned his eyes toward Elara.
He noticed the glow in her palm, a soft but powerful light, and he instantly made his guess.
To him, that had to be fire.
In a dungeon, fire was always welcome. Against Bluehide Beetles, it was the only true weapon.
His voice rose above the echoing sounds of crawling limbs.
"Come on, use your fire to take them out!" he shouted.
The ground shook with the weight of beetle hands dragging Marco farther away.
They slithered across the stone, dozens of pale-blue arms wrapping around him like living ropes.
Other tentacles spread in all directions, searching for more prey.
Their claws clicked against the ground, sharp and steady, like knives tapping on stone.
Elara's throat tightened.
She shook her head. "I can't," she said quietly.
The Captain turned to her with a glare.
