"The abyssal aura has grown much thicker. Which demonic branch was this again?"
The young mage looked down at the towering Slagor. To him, this kind of explosive, limit-breaking transformation was nothing special. However, the specific racial aura radiating from Slagor made the mage hesitate.
"Is this the fury burning deep within the soul of a lesser race?" he mused. "As an abyssal, charging headlong at us, The Solar Celestials... has he lost his mind?"
The young mage did not raise a finger. With his hands clasped behind his back, he continued to stare down at Slagor.
As he watched, a radiant corona manifested above his head. It behaved like a genuine miniature sun—collapsing, condensing into a blinding orb, and searing the earth below.
It was a silent strike.
In Slagor's limited understanding of magic, it could only be described as a world-purging light.
