On the lawn below, the spectators were no longer merely watching a fight; they were witnessing the dissection of a legend.
The air around them hummed with the displaced energy of the two titans clashing overhead, each magical discharge sending shockwaves that ruffled the grass like waves on a lake.
"She is more dangerous than I thought," Cassandra muttered.
Her voice was tight, strained by an intensity she couldn't suppress. Her eyes, sharp as her blade, never left the two figures silhouetted against the morning sky.
Her sword remained sheathed, but her free hand had drifted unconsciously to her stomach, fingers curling against the fabric as if bracing for an impact that was still miles away. "She isn't holding back..."
"Every spell is a new language, a new equation... She hasn't repeated a single pattern."
Gorvasha let out a laugh, a great, booming sound that seemed to vibrate in her very bones, defiant in the face of the impending doom.
