The Hero flew, and Fury snarled.

[i]This isn’t over yet.[/i]

He would have warned the Nas’Gaduran knights, or thanked them, or told them to stay out of it. He did none of those things, because even in his grief and rage filled mind he had become aware of what he was fighting. He had to deal with the Hero, or he would never be able to kill Skallagrim. Never be able to take his revenge. 

The knights approached the rubble in the distance, with their weapons primed, one significantly further away than the other. Fury floated down to the ground and watched them from afar. The only noticeable sign of fatigue was a slight tightness in his face, but as he walked slowly across the park towards the fallen hero the grass withered and died at his feet. Covering half the distance, he clasped his right hand on one of the few trees still intact, and it too began to decay, energy leaking from its fairly sizable structure and into the leach-like Fireen at its base. His face glowed with more intensity, as the energy restored him, while his left hand channelled his sizable stores into a spear-like structure, when the Hero came, he would be ready.