Khael observed the sequence, a faint smirk curling his lips. (Arden… my brother… finally, your time to shine.)
Lito turned, catching Khael's eye. A single nod passed between them, a silent communication honed through decades of battle and trust. Khael surged forward, not as a storm, but as a blade within it.
He channeled his dragon Shinrei into subtle currents, manipulating the battlefield itself: tents collapsed where enemy soldiers clustered, shadows of corrupted Shinrei were drawn into spirals that disarmed, disoriented, and subdued.
Lito moved as well, sweeping earth and wind to herd the enemy exactly where Arden had set the trap. From the ridge, General Vael Dran's eyes widened in disbelief.
"No… this isn't possible! They can't…" he muttered, voice trembling. Beside him, Varos gritted his teeth, desperately trying to stabilize the remaining Veinwalkers. But the currents of Shinrei bending the battlefield were beyond even his understanding.
