Ben's head snapped toward Tzarek.
But it was too late.
A hand burst from the shadows behind the injured Nephrid.
Fingers, crackling with violet lightning, clawed forward and punched straight through Tzarek's back.
Bone and flesh crunched as the hand burst out of his chest.
"ARRRGH!" Tzarek's eyes bulged.
Blood filled his mouth.
The real Magus stood behind him, calm and expressionless, eyes glowing. "I told you," he whispered, twisting his arm slowly, "fragile."
Draeven's roar tore through the air.
Vek'tal answered with a bellow of his own.
Flames erupted from both Nephrids' cores as they surged forward, leaving trails of molten fire behind them.
The Magus did not flinch.
He yanked his hand free, and Tzarek's body collapsed.
Just as Draeven and Vek'tal were about to strike, a barrier flared to life around the Magus.
Their blows almost connected, but the barrier exploded outward and threw them back.
Bam.
The force hurled them away like dolls caught in a storm.
