The clash of steel and magic echoed through the chamber, a cacophony of chaos that seemed almost alive. Sparks flew as blades and spells collided, and the very stone beneath them shuddered.
Royal guards met the armoured cultists head-on, their discipline and training forcing the enemy into brief moments of retreat, before the sheer difference in numbers pushed the tide to a more equal footing.
Edward's eyes swept across the battlefield, tracking the shifting lines of battle.
Flames erupted from the mage at the left flank, hissing as they met blasts of water from another. Wind tore against the walls of rock, and elemental forces tore the chamber apart in miniature storms, the air thick with the scent of ozone and scorched stone.
