Quinlan dropped altitude and hit the Ravenshade rear lines like a natural disaster.
Lightning came first.
He stretched his hand toward a supply column and felt the Abyssal Genesis Physique pulse through his bones, a deep resonance that hummed in every cell, the conduit that bridged his body to elemental forces that predated civilization.
The lightning answered, a branching cascade that split across the column in a web of white-blue fury and turned thirty soldiers and two supply wagons into charred wreckage in under a second.
He banked left and froze the next regiment mid-charge.
Ice erupted from the ground beneath their feet and climbed their legs, their torsos, their screaming mouths, a flash-freeze that locked six hundred men in crystalline tombs before the officers in the back ranks could shout a warning. The ice cracked and groaned as bodies tried to move inside it, but the cold was absolute.
He didn't slow down.
