The goblins stared at the magis with suspicion. To their bewilderment, they saw only the young man stepping toward the mouth of the cave, his cold eyes harbouring a hidden, grim intent.
"Flamus Gustblasz!"
"Flamus Blade!"
In a heartbeat, the natural forces obeyed the command of the weave-binder, as if echoing a calamitous past. The stagnant air within the gorge began to churn, its silence fracturing into a piercing howl. The cave mouth and the jagged fissures above formed a macabre instrument, compressing the atmospheric pressure through their narrow confines.
A whirlwind coalesced above the valley as the leaden clouds began to transmute. Every sentry looked skyward, eyes widening in sheer disbelief; the firmament had bled into a visceral crimson.
[Screeech!]
The high-pitched wail reverberated through the gorge and beyond, akin to the shriek of a vengeful soul. It was a sound of unnatural dread—sharper and more agonising than the cacophony of two nights prior. It grated like a metallic blade flaying a steel shield; many sentries clutched their ears in a fit of terror.
Even Seraph recoiled at the shrill whistle birthed within the valley, the frequency stabbing at his eardrums with violent force. Yet, he was not the primary victim of this mageia fallout.
[Thud!]
The goblin pack collapsed, writhing against the stone floor. They clawed at their malformed ears as if desperate to tear them away. Some succumbed to the onset of shock, frothing at the mouth before slipping into unconsciousness. The Kogoblin, most affected of all, fell to its knees in a state of continuous, convulsions.
Goblins possessed auditory senses far removed from those of men, capable of perceiving frequencies across a spectrum many times broader. The piercing pitch they endured now far surpassed the agony felt by the magis; to them, it was a direct assault of sonic mageia.
As the shriek shattered their senses, none could heed the small, whirling pillars of flame igniting in the heavens. Above, the tempestuous gale began to lash the world below with a barrage of unseen blades.
'Two days ago, this composite spell yielded no such erratic result. Is the divergence born of the shifting environment?' Seraph observed the unfolding phenomena, his understanding fractured by the anomaly.
"Hah... one can only pray those wretched rumours finally wither away," he muttered with a weary disdain.
Abruptly, the young magis's eyes flared with an incandescent light, his aura surging outward in a sweeping tide.
"Flamus Sphera!" Seraph intoned his final incantation.
The Sphera of flame descended, brushing against the sable ink oil that drenched the gorge. Suddenly, all sound seemed to be devoured by a void. It was as if the enclosed valley had been plunged into a momentary vacuum.
[Boom!]
A bolt of crimson lightning struck the pillar of fire crowning the valley. The earth shuddered; the firmament roared. The thunderous detonation echoed with a violence that unleashed devastation in every direction.
Even the sentry units stationed without were buffeted by the initial wave of searing air erupting from the cave mouth. They remained utterly oblivious to the nature of the carnage the magis Seraph had wrought within that deathly hollow!
As The Sphera detonated, Seraph witnessed the red bolt pierce the very heart of his fiery column. His eyes widened, struggling to comprehend the impossible sight.
Yet, the young magis had no leisure for contemplation. The fusion of the explosion and the lightning strike had birthed a titan of destruction; the valley before him seemed to have manifested a true fire demon. Torrential flames burst across the confines, the narrow fissures above insufficient to vent the pressure.
The frantic tides of fire spiralled and recoiled within the gorge, exploding against the rock in a desperate bid for escape. In a heartbeat, the dragon-like breath of the inferno surged into the small cavern, showing no mercy even to its progenitor.
"Bloody hell!"
"Ventus Windwalker!"
"Ventus Ghoststep—Exa!" Seraph overcharged his mageia power, pushing beyond his threshold.
[Flash!]
[Voom!]
A blinding radiance scoured the tunnel. The young magis shattered the vacuum barrier and propelled himself backward at the speed of sound.
The frenzied tides of fire surged, devouring everything within the gorge. The tremors pursued with a relentless grip, as if the inferno itself refused to let even the young magis's soul escape. A searing beam of amber and crimson light lashed out, trailing in his wake.
A white blur hurtled from the cave mouth, trailing a violent shockwave. The sentries found their vision failing; they caught only the ghostly flicker of a pale afterimage, followed by a sonic boom so thunderous it struck their ears with agonising force.
[Crack!]
[Boom!]
The cataclysmic roar seemed to deafen the world. They knew not what transpired, yet they remained transfixed by the cave's maw, as though their very souls were cast into the heart of the blaze. A second detonation followed, echoing like the roar of a fire dragon. The vibration shook the mountain to its foundations. Scant moments after the white figure vanished, the dragon's breath billowed out in pursuit.
The column of flame lanced forward, reaching far across the terrain. Even the sentries lurking within distant cover felt a scorching heat, as if they stood amidst a funeral pyre. The thermal gale struck those who stood dazed, sending them tumbling pathetically away from the entrance.
None were struck directly by the tongues of fire, yet the radiant heat bleeding from the depths seared their flesh. Those who'd failed to seek proper refuge found their faces blackened like charcoal; others saw their hair shrivel and curl under the blistering air. They stood frozen—motionless as statues carved from shock.
[Roar!]
Flame continued to erupt from the cave mouth without pause. Above, a pillar of fire danced against the firmament like a dragon coiling through the heavens. The clouds swirled in tandem with the molten column. The enclosed valley had been transfigured into a titanic furnace—or perhaps, the very throat of hell.
Seraph had inadvertently propelled himself far beyond the cave's threshold, the high-speed mageia having drained his mana to the dregs. After downing both a mana draught and a healing potion to mend his vitals, the young man paced back toward Maldrin, who lay sprawled in the dust, his mouth agape like a crocodile mired in muck.
"Instruct all sentries to retreat further from the entrance," Seraph stated flatly. "Mind the flames and the concussive force; the valley is choked with volatile gases. It rendered my mageia uncontrollable."
Though the young magis had stood by Maldrin's side for some time, the Commander remained oblivious, his gaze ensnared by the titanic furnace of the gorge. Seeing this, Seraph lightly kicked Maldrin's boot to snap him back to reality, casting all etiquette aside.
"Maldrin!" Seraph's voice sharpened.
The Commander jolted in shock, leaping backward instinctively and colliding with a nearby sentry, sending them both tumbling once more. The commotion jarred the rest of the men back to their senses. Yet, as they beheld the young magis in his white hooded cloak, standing before them like an expressionless mask, their blood ran cold.
Pale-faced and trembling, Maldrin felt a frigid sweat drench his spine. As one, the men dropped to their knees.
"Lord Seraph!" Maldrin managed, swallowing hard against a bone-dry throat.
Seraph stared at them, bewildered, unable to fathom what had possessed them.