Captain Timothy's eyes widened in disbelief as the corpses of his guards hit the ground one by one.
Blood soaked the grass. Limbs twitched. Heads rolled. The air was thick with smoke and severed screams.
"You... monsters..." he muttered, teeth grinding. Then, with a roar—"DIE!"
He hurled a thunderbolt, but Daemon didn't flinch. He stepped forward and punched the air, his aura erupting in a wave that shattered the spell mid-flight and sent the lightning veering harmlessly into the dirt.
WHOOSH!
A volley of elemental spells shot toward them flames, ice shards, and wind blades flying from every corner.
The remaining guards had regrouped, and they weren't holding back.
Varian's eyes burned.
"Finally," he said, cracking his knuckles. "Time to shut these cowards up."
He charged into the wave of magic, aura flaring like a wildfire. A fireball grazed his side but he didn't care. He grabbed the nearest guard by the throat, lifted him off the ground—
—and ripped his arm clean off.
