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The Tower Master’s head flew. Had he been an ordinary man, his body would have fallen like a puppet with its strings cut, never to move again. But he was a lich. The jaw of the severed skull clicked once, then began to move with quick, precise intent.
“Explosion!” the Tower Master shouted.
“Celestial Bell, ring!” Helia chanted with him.
Helia had the bell in her hand before the last echo of the lich’s spell faded. Power that could have shaken a nation broke loose inside the cramped cave. Light and mana collided, and the chamber vanished in a burst that turned rock to shrapnel and shrapnel to dust. Debris geysered outward and fell as a hard rain. They both drew breath, expecting smoke and silence.
“Hmm,” the Tower Master said.
“Oh,” Helia whispered.
They had felt no demonic energy when the man entered. If he had taken the blast without a guard, then he should have been torn apart. Just then, something pushed through the ruin.
The man stepped out of the drifting rubble with his coat unruffled and not a single strand of hair disturbed. He did not run. He simply arrived within reach and lifted his sword toward Helia’s heart. Helia snapped a hand up, voice steady.
“Hephaite’s Shield!”
Metal sang into shape. The God of the Forge’s work manifested as a broad, dull gleam, the same shield they had forged with their own hands in the age when gods and...
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