The ninth-level warrior gritted his teeth, adjusting his grip on his axe. "Your arrogance knows no bounds, demons. You might pretend otherwise, but the World barrier still affects you. I can see it in your movements, your suppressed power. Even with a hero and an apostle on your side, you're nothing but a grindstone for me to amuse myself with."
It was? Fyren appeared different from how I'd ever seen him, but I hadn't noticed anything off in the few seconds before we split at the Cathedral. I studied him, my lips pursing as I found a slight irregularity in his aura. It flared constantly around him, a veil of white flames that held no heat. Almost, and perhaps it was just a coincidence, but it reminded me of the aura of the Ice Spirit in Enusia. Power leaked from his soul, burning off like eroding sand in a windstorm.
