A bolt of lightning that did not come from the sky erupted in the center of the garden. It wasn't weather; it was a raw, electrical scream of pure mana that tore through the oppressive atmosphere.
The invisible fist of Rex's gravity shattered like glass under a sledgehammer, the magical hold on the ruined hall bursting apart in a cascade of violet sparks and concussive shockwaves.
Leonidas had gambled everything. He had taken every ounce of residual strength, every scrap of mana left in his marrow, and detonated it in a single, suicidal burst of liberation.
FWOOSH...!
He vanished from his position. In that same microsecond, a streak of silver steel flashed through the air like a comet.
The longsword didn't just strike; it roared. It intercepted Rex's descending fist with a bone-jarring CLANG that shook the very foundations of the garden.
