Amelia stood her ground, feet planted, posture unchanged as a wall of dense flame bloomed in front of her.
Kharik's blade chipped against it, almost like the flames were given mass as sparks shrieked across the snowy plains.
The executioner twisted, pulling back and striking again. The blow came in low, aimed at Amelia's legs.
She shifted right before countering with her own attack.
A point-blank detonation along Kharik's chest.
He saw the attack, but damage that had accumulated in his legs as a result of fighting Ryn slowed him down just enough.
The force hurled him backward.
Kharik skidded across the snow, boots carving deep trenches as he fought to keep his footing, greatsword dragging behind him in a spray of sparks. He barely caught himself before crashing fully to the ground.
Amelia didn't wait.
She lifted her hand.
The air above Kharik ignited.
A barrage of fire appeared.
