Kozran had satisfied himself with his gloating, cutting down decisively. Then the unexpected happened, violent plumes of flames rushed at him, searing the skin of his face and singeing his hair.
With a yell of pain and anger, he forced down the axe even deeper, not backing away from the heat that threatened to melt his features off his face.
Caedos could almost taste the metal of Kozran's axe in his throat, the light fading from his eyes.
At the point where his claws sank into the burning earth, cracks formed, deepening. If he wasn't already at death's door he might have felt the heat rushing up out of the cracks, fire rising up like molten gold.
It distracted Kozran for a moment, at the moment that he was about to completely sever the Hellhound's head. Despite the wave of fire being spat out at his face, he still felt the difference in strength from the fire bubbling underneath the thin cracks.
