He planted one foot forward, pouring not just darkness into the blade, but fire, lightning, blood, ice, every affinity he could force into it at once. Mana surged like a river breaking through a dam, and the weapon drank it greedily, its edge burning with a shifting spectrum of color under the black.
The hum became a high, resonant scream.
Then he swung.
The cut didn't just travel along the ground this time, it erased what it touched. Stone became dust in an instant, the very air splitting with a roar like the sky itself was tearing apart. The shockwave knocked Nysha from her feet and sent what was left of the temple's outer wall flying outward like shrapnel.
The fissure tore forward for miles, deeper and wider than the last. Trees in its path didn't fall, they simply ceased to be, disintegrated to ash that was pulled upward into the dark clouds now swirling above them.
