Byung watched as the elf stood and faced the dwarf, her hands beginning to weave intricate patterns in the air. She was preparing to fight with pure magic, casting spells with the kind of precision that came from centuries of practice. There were no weapons, no physical tools—just her mastery of the arcane against whatever the dwarf had brought from the dark continent.
The dwarf's confident smile widened as he reached into his cloak and produced a single object—a cube made from that same black metal Byung had seen before, an artifact that seemed to absorb light rather than reflect it. "You came prepared with your magic," he said, his red eyes gleaming with stolen elven power. "But I've been preparing for this moment far longer."
"We've been watching you for decades," the elf replied coldly, completing her first spell. A barrier of shimmering force materialized around the chamber, sealing the exit and creating a contained battlefield. "Your tool won't save you."
