[Realm: Álfheimr]
[Location: The Deathless Fortress]
Koschei did not rush the spell.
The glyphs above him rotated slowly, their black rings layered. He raised his staff and began to chant.
Gretchen felt it before the air reacted.
Pressure gathered overhead as the glyphs merged and vanished. The air suddenly felt dense and suffocating, as if the sky were being compressed into a single point. Heat followed as her eyes lifted just in time.
A massive red glyph tore into existence above her, its geometry odd and aggressive, lines cutting across the air.
"So that's your answer," she murmured. "Merely another flashy spell."
The glyph collapsed downward.
Fire followed.
Not a wave—too unfocused for Koschei's taste. Not a blast—too wasteful. This was a column. A vertical torrent of flame driven straight into the ground with enough force to pulverize stone into fragments. The impact cracked the earth apart, fractures racing outward as the heat distorted the air.
