No spell interference. Just a gesture, she rotated one hand mid-cast, and the bolt warped off-course like the air had folded.
Lucen didn't swear.
He just flung himself behind a pillar and snapped a [Crater Bloom] underfoot as he passed.
The trap detonated late, just enough to slow the polearm guy's follow-up.
Not enough to stop him. The man shielded with his arm and burst through the shockwave, dust curling around his boots.
Lucen rose from the crouch and cast [Frost Spire] backward.
The spike launched into the area behind him, not aimed.
A warning.
A control threat.
He was counting steps, not targets.
The older fighter was still circling wide.
Lucen pivoted toward him, just as the man tossed a vial casually into the air.
It burst midair.
No flash.
No smoke.
Just a shimmer, and the pressure around Lucen's chest locked tight. Not crushing. Just… slowing. Like his blood took half a second longer to obey.
Lucen's spell delay stretched.
