Grandmaster Volkov’s hooked talons swept through the hot air, clawing toward the porcelain bowl in Kaelen’s palm.
Before the old monster could reach the platform, a wall of cold steel intercepted his path. Elder Sterling stepped between them with a ferocious roar, his heavy longsword cleaving upward in a violent silver arc.
Clang!
The longsword met Volkov’s black star-iron staff with an ear-splitting screech. Shockwaves blasted outward, scattering loose flagstones and sending a spray of white sparks across the arena floor. Sterling stood like an iron pillar, his Nascent Soul Mid aura holding firm against the Grandmaster’s crushing weight.
At the same instant, a flash of gray shadow flickered beside Volkov’s neck.
Sera Thorne appeared out of thin air. Her twin silver daggers slashed across Volkov’s crimson silk sleeve, carving deep gashes into the fabric and slicing away his embroidered cuffs. Silver lightning crackled along the cuts, scorching the old man’s skin.
Volkov twisted violently in mid-air, his face pale with sudden shock. He kicked against Sterling’s flat blade and flipped backward, landing heavily on both heels thirty feet away.
“Insolent dogs!” Volkov spat, wiping a speck of spit from his beard. “I will have every one of you flayed alive!”
