Chapter 130
I was mid-sprint through the chaos when a robed lunatic exploded out of an alley and lobbed fire at my face.
I dodged, mostly by accident, tripping over a severed cultist staff and landing behind a shattered cart. The fireball hit a nearby stall and turned what had once been fresh cabbages into steaming mulch.
The mage emerged dramatically from the smoke. His blood-red robes billowed behind him like they came with a built-in fan. He glowed with infernal magic like a cursed Christmas tree. He raised his staff, and it crackled with ominous energy. "I am the Shattered Flame! The Spiral of Dread! The Devourer of…"
"Oh gods," I groaned, already exhausted. "You're one of those idiots."
He blinked, mid-rant.
I kept going. "Do you get your titles from a hat? Do cultists draw names like raffle tickets? Or do you all just roll dice and hope for something edgy?"
He screamed and threw another fireball at me. This one was the size of a small carriage.
