The battlefield felt charged with tension as Sage and the leader faced each other across the shattered plaza, dust swirling slowly between them. The sounds of distant clashes and the groans of the wounded faded into a muted backdrop.
Their eyes locked in a silent exchange that carried more weight than any weapon. The leader's sharp gaze scrutinized Sage with predatory intent, while Sage's expression remained cold and unyielding, even as blood trickled from his nose and ears, and his fingers trembled from the strain of forcing a Level 3 spell through a body already pushed to its limits.
For a few seconds, neither moved or spoke, both instinctively aware that their next actions would significantly influence the battle's outcome.
The leader narrowed his eyes slightly; irritation gave way to calculating focus as he replayed their previous exchanges in vivid detail, timing, range, patterns of Sage's spells, and how his body reacted post-casting.
