But Elius's voice drifted over like a whisper and a knife all at once. "It doesn't matter who handles it."
And then—shink—three of the floating swords behind him lifted. Each one humming with faint runes along their silver edge. They weren't spinning. Not yet. But they vibrated with controlled tension, like arrows pulled taut against the string of an unseen bow.
They shot forward—BOOM!
Three streaks of light crossed the distance in a blink, targeting Fraven, still half-weak and exposed.
Zhark's eyes widened. "Tch—!"
Lightning exploded from his hands. A ring of pure current erupted around them. With both hands thrust forward, Zhark let his power surge in full, sending a field of plasma arcing upward like a cyclone. The electricity crashed into the oncoming swords, halting their movement.
But barely.
