[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/ZivsXN1.png[/img][/center]
[hr][center][h3]~1440 | PARIS | FASHION SHOW VENUE[/h3][/center][hr]
A mesh of bone criss-crossed out like a network of nerves or blood vessels rather than what they truly were. Neither a barrier nor an obstruction, they served only to be caught in the deluge of tendrils that slipped into the gaps before splaying out. The net was torn apart in mere seconds, the necromancer’s magic doing little to dissuade the flower-wisp’s wrath.

But Edward only needed a handful of seconds.

For in the next instant, [i]everyone[/i] in the room that had even the slightest sensitivity to magic could feel it. A tingling upon their skin. A tremor of truest power. Twas the wrath of the storm condensed, black clouds forced into the shape of a black gem, a weapon of destined destruction forged by the greatest smith within the realm of the dead. Today, all wisps would learn to fear him. Today, Edward was [i]motivated[/i]!

[i]“Witness my power!”[/i]

Arcs of electricity gathered upon the magical focus like a Tesla ball, before the invocation of the reaper sent a stream of power right towards the surging vines. They tried to curve away, to evade the blast, but what plant could outpace sky-fire? It carbonized instantly, green replaced by smouldering black as electricity raced upwards into the main body of the flower-wisp, before exploding with such force that the massive phantasm was sent flying back!

Back, dragging the lights down with it.

Edward saw all those entirely [i]physical[/i] lights falling, falling, falling.

Upon crowds of people who just now were noticing something was wrong.

…

Dragon breath scattered against the Globe of Invulnerability, ethereal flame generating neither heat nor smoke as Vera’s shield held strong. Her sword was at the ready now, her bastion enough to withstand the skeletal monstrosity’s blast. Amid the roar of phantom-blaze, she could hear the crackling of Edward’s lightning, the accompanying crash and crack of ceiling and wisp.

And then, the ear-piercing ring of the fire alarm.

But all this, she could only hear, sealed as she was inside the haze of flame. Her defensive position meant that she had to wait this out. To wait for it to fade. Even if she knew, experienced as she was, that the act of casting ended before the effect of the casting. That a dragon breathing ended before the dragon’s breath.

By the time the flames scattered, Vera was already a step behind. The skeletal dragon had changed targets, about-facing to charge right for Lucian and Celeste, its jaws open this time to maim rather than burn. And stuck deep in a corner that the airhead reaper’s good fortune had guided him towards, there was no room at all now to get out of the way.