'That's our Spark Fist, right?' one of the disciples behind Joric asked, as their group scrambled on the ground, narrowly escaping the debris falling from the sky.
Despite them all moving quickly, not all were lucky, as from time to time, the pained screams of disciples could be heard.
Joric said nothing, as he even forgot to close his wide-open mouth.
There was no mistaking it. It was their family's famous skill. It was the same skill the great Kaelen used when he sacrificed himself in the Whisperwoods.
That image was still clear in his mind: the sky brimming with brilliant red flames which brightened the entire province.
After that, some people perfected the skill, but none of them could release it with the same brilliance as that time.
But now, someone had used it, and its power even dwarfed that one. Who was this? Suddenly, the image of the red-eyed man came into his mind.
Joric recoiled, his eyes widening in disbelief.
