Sera's head lifted slowly.
Her glare was venomous and feral like a wounded animal with nothing left to lose. Her face contorted with rage and anguish twisted into something almost unrecognizable.
Frost mana erupted from her body like a scream made physical, dancing in the air around her, crystallizing her fury into deadly beauty.
Everything in her line of sight began to freeze.
The grass beneath them turned white and brittle. The air itself seemed to crack like a solid.
Even Rune's body, the warmth she'd desperately tried to preserve began to frost over. Ice crept across his chest, across the sword still buried in his heart, encasing both wound and weapon in crystalline preservation.
The avalanche of frost surged toward the Sword King like a tidal wave of winter's wrath.
It didn't reach him.
It couldn't.
The frost simply parted around him as if repelled by an invisible wall, powerless before absolute mastery.
Lydia didn't watch the futile attack.
