When the light faded, Elsbeth stood transformed.

She had become, in essence, a living embodiment of volatile arcane principles.

Where once Elsbeth had commanded dark arts, she was now commanded by it.

She had gained immense power but lost the control necessary to direct it effectively.

They gained power, yes, but at the cost of their essential humanity.

Norimar, who had stopped fighting, clicked his tongue. He didn’t expect Elsbeth to use dark arts to this level. The fight was already over, and he couldn’t really tell if Angelina would kill her. But he was already making preparations to leave. 𝑓𝑟ℯ𝘦𝓌𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝑐ℴ𝓂

Elsbeth screamed, an inhuman wail that cracked mirrors across the streets.

Without a word, Angelina raised her hands. Calm, steady. Her fingers moved in precise, sacred arcs—an ancient pattern.

From its glowing heart, golden arrow-beams erupted—dozens of them—each one sharp as fate and fast as judgement.

Elsbeth’s eyes widened a second too late. The arrows struck her with blinding force, one after another, piercing her shadow armour and driving her back through the air.

Smoke billowed.

Before the dust could settle, she stepped forward, her eyes locked upon the swirling shadows where Elsbeth had fallen. Her fingers danced again, swifter this time, each movement a wordless invocation.

CRACK!

The whole marketplace and streets flashed white.

Elsbeth shrieked—not just in pain, but in fury—her voice echoing with ten thousand ghostly harmonics as she flailed within the blast, her shadows scattering like dead leaves in a hurricane.

Angelina stood over her, no longer the transformed figure of power she had become during the height of the battle, but something far more terrifying—a grandmother whose family had been threatened.

"You came after my grandson," Angelina said, her voice carrying a cold finality that made the air itself seem to freeze. "You orchestrated attacks against my blood. For that, there can be only one response."

This was execution magic, designed to unmake not just the body but the very soul of its target.

"Please," she whispered, genuine terror breaking through her earlier arrogance. "Don’t kill me."

The execution spell began to descend—and was suddenly intercepted by a barrier.

"That’s quite enough, Reverend," he growled, his magical scarifications blazing with contained force.

"Ho ho," he laughed out loud, "Elsbeth, you have really outdone yourself, making the mother witch angry, eh?"

"I won’t let you take her," Angelina snarled, gathering power for an attack that would overwhelm even Norimar’s considerable defences.

Norimar’s response was to tear open a rift—not a gentle portal, but a violent rip in reality itself. "Another time, perhaps," he said, lifting the barely conscious Elsbeth in his arms. "But today, we have what we came for."

The silver fire struck empty air, the rift sealing itself microseconds before the magical assault could follow its targets.

"Cowards!" she screamed at the empty air where the portal had been. "Face me directly instead of skulking in shadows!"

Her enemies were retreating, but they had achieved something—what, she couldn’t yet determine.

"This isn’t over," she whispered to the wind, her voice carrying a promise of retribution that would echo across dimensions.