But the ground beneath her feet chose that exact moment to explode. A massive geyser of boiling, pressurized mana erupted from a fissure between them, a pillar of liquid purple light that hit her defensive shields with the force of a battering ram, throwing her backward onto the stone steps of the high dais.
The archway let out a terrifying, final CRACK that resonated through the entire valley. The silver-violet web Lucien had woven began to snap, one strand after another popping with the sound of breaking iron cables, while Kaelen's knees sank another inch into the fracturing floor, his boots surrounded by a ring of crushed stone.
They were losing. The continent was shifting faster than their magic could anchor, the ancient, parasitic malice of Aurelius pulling the world down into the deep trenches of the primordial dark, leaving them to drown in their own blood.
***
