I didn't have time to be surgical. I reached out and grabbed the very concept and deleted it from our immediate space.
"Law Manipulation: Gravitational Negation!"
The violet chains of the One Beneath didn't disappear—they stretched, screaming as I forced them to expand. Ingi, Fafnir, and Zephyrion felt the weight lift, their wings catching the air once more. But the cost was immediate. My Magicore let out a sound like a ship's hull snapping. My skin began to crack, golden light leaking out of my pores as my body struggled to contain the raw output.
"Zephyrion! Get us up! NOW!" I coughed, a spray of gold-tinted blood hitting the mud.
Below us, the Blightborn army was being crushed by the sheer back-pressure of my Law. As they died by the hundreds, their necrotic essence flowed directly into the obsidian pillars.
CLAANK.
