He caught another with a Time flick, nothing dramatic, just a half-second skip in their swing, enough to duck and counter.
Then two came at once from behind.
They were fast. Clean. One went high. The other low.
'Smart.'
Too bad it didn't matter.
Lindarion dropped to one knee and slammed his palms into the dirt.
A burst of Ice shattered outward in a controlled arc. Not a wave, needles.
Sharp. Dense. Laced with the faintest edge of Water affinity for speed.
Both attackers fell.
The last one stepped back.
"Wait," he said, breath sharp. "You—what even are you?"
Lindarion rose slowly, coat smoking, eyes still unreadable.
"I'm the reason you're not going home."
The man tried to run.
He got about six feet before Lindarion used Astral again, appearing in front of him mid-stride and punching him clean across the jaw.
The man hit the ground and didn't move.
Ashwing dropped from a branch. "You know… that was overkill."
"They started it."
"You used seven affinities."
