Isolde's blood hardened, the crimson liquid crystallizing into a dense, multi-layered shield that pulsed with defensive energy. She planted her feet, bracing herself against the coming onslaught.
"He's coming."
The words had barely left her lips when the air itself seemed to split.
Deiora shot forward, his massive form a blur of crimson and gold. The wind howled in his wake, the ground cracking beneath his feet as he closed the distance in the space between heartbeats. His fist, wreathed in that blazing aura, drove forward with the force of a falling star.
The blow struck Isolde's shield.
CRACK!
The impact was immense. Shockwaves rippled outward, sending soldiers and debris scattering in all directions. The shield buckled, fissures spider-webbing across its surface like cracks in a frozen lake.
