The moment Borzoi accepted the fight, the air between them tightened in a way that made even the wind hesitate, as if the land itself understood that what was about to unfold was not something ordinary, not something that could simply pass without leaving a mark.
Maxwell did not waste time.
Light gathered once more in his hand, forming into a condensed sphere that pulsed with quiet intensity, its glow steady and controlled, as if it reflected his own state of mind. Without hesitation, he released it, sending the spell forward with precision that did not waver even for a moment.
The spell cut through the air.
Fast.
Direct.
Borzoi tilted his head slightly, as if what he saw did not impress him in the slightest, and then he stepped aside with a motion so simple that it almost looked careless, allowing the attack to pass him completely before it struck the ground behind him with a sharp explosion that sent dirt and dust rising into the air.
