The red and golden auras of Arthur and Jordan clashed violently.
Crimson mist roared outward from Arthur like blood made vapor, thick and oppressive, grinding against the blazing golden radiance surrounding Jordan.
The collision wasn't silent.
It screeched.
Mana tore against mana, producing a high-pitched hum that vibrated through bone and ice alike.
The basement walls began cracking little by little.
Thin fractures crawled outward like spiderwebs across frozen stone.
Ice chunks loosened from the ceiling.
Crack.
Crack.
Chunks plummeted downward and shattered on impact.
At first, they seemed equal.
Crimson and gold locked in a grinding deadlock.
The air between them warped violently, dust and frost swirling in a circular vortex around the two men.
Then—
Arthur's boots began sliding backward.
At first just an inch.
Then another.
His heels dug deep grooves into the ice as he forced his body forward, muscles trembling from the pressure.
