The roar of the explosion lingered in the air long after the light from it had faded, leaving a high-pitched ringing in everyone's ears. For several seconds, the world was nothing but a thick, choking cloud of white smoke and the smell of smoke. The heat was still so intense that the nearby wooden crates were smoldering, their edges glowing red.
And the noticeable thing was, Where the mage had stood, there was nothing.
No body, no tattered blue robe, not even a single drop of blood. The sheer force of the fireball explosion had turned him into ash instanly and scattered him into the wind.
The "Invisible Mage," the second son of a Viscount who had looked down on them with his cruel coldness, had been erased from the face of the world.
Eon stood frozen, his hands still outstretched, his palms blackened and raw. His chest was heaving, every breath was a battle against the searing pain in his lungs. But his eyes weren't on the crater. They were searching the smoke with a desperate, wide-eyed terror.
"Elsa!" he croaked, his voice were barely a whisper. "ELSA!" he screamed.
He remembered the moment he released the fireball. He remembered her twisting in the mage's grip, her emerald eyes reflecting the white-hot death he had sent flying toward them. The thought that he might have killed her with his fireball, the person who had stayed by his side with unwavering loyalty, was becoming a knife in his soul.
"Elsa! Answer me!" he screamed, stumbling forward. His legs were shaking so violently he almost tripped over a piece of charred cobblestone.
"Over... over here," a muffled voice called out.
Eon stopped. The smoke shifted, and he saw it. Behind the spot where the mage had been standing, a jagged, waist-high wall of solid earth had been thrust up from the ground. It looked like a tombstone made of the street itself.
From behind the wall, a hand appeared. Then a head of white hair. Elsa climbed out, coughing and wiping soot from her face. She looked worn out, her clothes were torn and her skin was red from the heat, but she was alive for sure.
Right behind her, Verra was slumped against the base of the earth wall. She looked worse than Elsa; her face was deathly pale, and blood was still dripping from her nose from the strain of the Earth Bind and the shield she made with her last drop of mana.
"Verra... she pulled me down,...she saved me" Elsa gasped, her voice was shaky. "She made the wall... just as you fired the spell. She saved me."
Eon let out a breath which he didn't know he was holding. He felt a wave of relief so strong it almost knocked him over.
"Thank god," he whispered. "Thank god." he said it over and over again, as tear drops were forming in his eyes.
He turned his attention to the rest of the group. Hans were slowly sitting up several yards away. He was still tightly grabbing Alen with his arms, trying to pull him up too. The blast wave had tossed them through the air like dolls, but the distance had saved them from the fire. Hans was checking his limbs, looking dazed but unhurt. While Alen was shivering, his eyes were closed but he was okay.
"The Captain!" Elsa suddenly shouted, remembering the hole in Valen's stomach.
Hearing that Eon snapped back to reality. He rushed toward the center of the street where Valen and Elora lay. It was a gruesome sight. Elora was still unconscious near the carriage, her shoulder was a mess of torn fabric and bruised flesh from the spell attack of that damned mage.
Although Elora looked aweful, but Valen was the priority right now. The hole in his gut was still leaking blood, a dark pool spreading across the stones. His face was pale gray, the color of someone already halfway to the grave.
Eon didn't hesitate. He pulled two of his last experimental high-grade healing potions from his Inventory storage. He knelt beside the captain, propping his head up.
"Drink this," Eon growled, forcing the liquid down Valen's throat.
The effect of two potions at once was visible. The jagged edges of the wound began to knit together instantly. New flesh bubbled up in its place, sealing the puncture in his stomach and the also the exit wound in his back. Valen groaned, his body twitching as the newly experimented healing potion did its job perfectly, forcing his organs back into place.
After a minute, the bleeding stopped. The hole was gone, replaced by a thick, puckered two-inch scar that looked years old. He was out of immediate danger, but he still remained unconscious, his body was exhausted from the trauma.
Eon sighed seeing Valen was alive at least. He thought he had surely died, wiping his forehead with a trembling hand. He looked around. The woman with the daggers and the other thugs were still scattered across the street, most of them knocked out by the initial fight or the shockwave of the blast.
"We need... to bind them," Eon said, his voice sounding hollow and weak. "Elsa, find some rope. We can't let them... escape."
He tried to take a step toward the warehouse. He wanted to find Martha. He wanted to finish what he started.
But as his foot started to step forward, the world tilted around him.
The adrenaline that had been keeping him upright suddenly vanished. The double dose of strength potions, the experimental enhancer, and the massive mana drain of the fireball all hit him at once. It was like a dam breaking.
Every muscle in his body began to scream. His heart, which had been hammering like a drum, suddenly skipped a beat, then another. The black veins on his neck throbbed with a dull, sickening heat.
"Eon?" Elsa asked, stepping toward him.
Eon didn't answer. His vision went from red to black instantly . His knees buckled, and he began to fall forward like a felled tree.
"Eon!" Verra's voice was the last thing he heard.
Despite her own exhaustion, she had been watching him. She lunged forward, her elven reflexes just sharp enough to catch him. She slid one of her hand, catching his head before it could hit the hard cobblestones.
He was out cold. His breathing was shallow, and his skin was burning up with a fever. The price for playing with the sun had finally come due.