Above them they saw the sky burned and fractured as powers far beyond mortal scale collided.
King Gulben, Aurdis, Aerchon, Saeldir, Sylmirs, Arty, Adrius, Lysander, Adrien, and Billy flew hard toward the front line, their eyes fixed on the spectacle unfolding above them.
They felt it immediately.
The Magic pressure rolling down from the clash was immense. It pressed against their senses, distorted the air, and made the space around them vibrate.
Each explosion of lightning, earth, and ice clashed against the darkness, sent shockwaves rippling through the sky, and every recoil of the dark clouds warped the atmosphere further.
And yet, something was different.
They were not struggling to breathe. Their limbs did not feel heavy. Their minds did not blur or strain under the weight of it.
Despite being dangerously close to what could only be described as deities clashing in the open sky, none of them felt threatened by the pressure.
