Glain's breath grew heavy, his grip on the staff trembling. The ground beneath his feet quivered, not from Leo's attacks this time, but from the weight of exhaustion pressing through his old bones.
He steadied himself, but even the air felt heavier now. The magic that had once flowed through him like spring water moved sluggishly, resisting his call.
"Getting tired, old man?" Leo taunted, hovering above the ground, his armor gleaming with divine frost. A chilling mist radiated from his body, spreading like a deathly fog. "Did you really think your tricks could last forever?"
Glain didn't answer. His body ached. His heart thudded unevenly, every beat reminding him of the decades he had carried. Still, he raised his staff, his eyes calm, if weary.
But Leo wasn't waiting.
He spread his arms, and the temperature dropped in an instant. Crystals formed midair, glittering with a cruel light. The world turned pale, each breath a shard of glass in Glain's lungs.
