With a flick of Seyren's wrist, the illusions peeled away like smoke caught in a sudden gale. The demons froze, caught off guard as the veil that had hidden them dissolved, leaving them standing exposed in the open. Their eyes darted between each other, then widened as they realized their prey was already turning to face them.
Kai's shadow stirred, and from it emerged Merri, the shadowsworn assassin, her form half-consumed by writhing darkness, her blades glinting dully. Behind her came Ralts, cold and silent, flesh-manipulation magic already coiling at her fingertips. Joe, the looming deathknight, moved into place before her, his armor scraping as he raised his rusted blade, a wall of steel and malice.
And then came the twelve skeleton fire mages. Only, they were no longer the frail novices Kai had once raised, they radiated power now, their bones glowing faintly with cracks of ember light, flame wreathing their fingertips as though desperate to be unleashed.
