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Zenovia felt a chill run down her spine as the dark figure appeared. The spirits shuddered in fear as the menacing aura filled the clearing. Her gaze moved toward the sound of a man speaking. His voice caused the mage's hairs to stand, his aura pushing against her own. She could only imagine who it may be, but it sure as hell wasn't a friend. As it mentioned one of them being like himself, Zenovia's mind instantly thought of Vert. As bad as she felt about that assumption, it would seem that she wasn't wrong, as Vert responded in a hostile manner. The shaman stepped back slightly in hesitation as the monster raised his hand. An otherworldly magic like her own, swirled and consumed the Wargs. This creature was very powerful indeed.

As she watched Vert run at the new foe, she noticed that Ivan went chasing after her. Zenovia wasn't in the right mindset to say anything at this moment in time, her thoughts strayed to what spells she should cast upon the magic beast. She felt another twinge of power as the man-beast unsheathed his blade. The headstone. This was getting far too dangerous, especially for her friends who were nearest to the enemy.

She felt the spirits flee from the clearing. A bad omen. However, the more powerful ones stayed by her side. It was unusual for the spirits to stay with her during such a time, but she felt more confident now. She listened to the Storyteller's chants, they were similar to her own, yet different entirely. She could feel his power well from within, but she didn't know what he was going to do. She wasn't sure if it was enough to stop the dark being.

The words that the beast uttered began to sap at Zenovia's energy, she could sense the amount of energy that was building up in the man's spell. He was just about ready to cast something that would turn them into nothing more than dust. However, no matter how otherworldly such magic was, the spirits cannot be commanded by such things. She breathed deeply, clutching the head of her staff. Even though she had lost her ability to speak words of magic, such things didn't need to be uttered. Her magic had not been depleted yet, but this wasn't exactly magic. It was more of a request for the spirits. The spirits flowed into her body as streams of blue light as she asked them to assist her. In the back of her mind, she wished to encourage Laina, but such thoughts were pushed aside as Zenovia concentrated on the conflict at hand.

Her body stood still as she closed her eyes. After a brief moment, she opened them again, her eyes burning brightly with an otherworldly flame. Her right hand became encased in blue light. With a wave of her hand, the spirits she had absorbed streamed out of her fingers, flowing into everyone in her party. They would feel revitalised and powerful. Any wounds they had would remain, but they would not hinder movement.