"L-lord Merek! What are you doing!?"
Merek waved his hand once more as the redflame viscounts demanded. More beams descended, reducing them to ash.
"Run!"
"He's killing us!"
The Redflames scattered in terror, sprinting in every direction. But Merek's attention had turned elsewhere. The wills of the dead spiraled toward him, gathering in a dense whirl just as Atticus reached him in a blazing flash, katana cleaving down from the heavens.
"Will Armament."
The gathered wills condensed instantly into a shield, meeting Atticus' descending strike. A violent eruption of force and heat exploded outward, crashing across the battlefield and hurling the remaining gods off their feet.
Atticus felt the rush of wind slam against his back and spun, skidding across the sky until he steadied himself.
'I was pushed back?'
