"Finally!"
Uriel's body skidded across the crystal surface of the glass waters. Eventually, he came to a stop, and with a groan, he used his glaive to push himself up to his feet.
He couldn't breathe properly, his lung pierced through and slowly filling with blood, his body covered in deep cuts, and more than a couple of ribs broken.
But it wasn't anything new. He'd faced worse. The most pressing matter, though, was his aether reserves.
A big issue with his new circles, as he'd already figured out while facing Lucianna's vassal, was that each spell took a humongous amount of energy to cast.
Just the two spells he'd cast had nearly dried him, and with the strange attacks Miquella was launching, he stood mere droplets away from aether depletion.
And if that happened, he'd go mad once more.
SHOOO!
The fabrics around Uriel bent and twisted, curving to overflow his cores with energy as he took a deep breath in.
