Raging Flames

Richard spat out a breath of red-hot air, as if abyssal fires were burning in his lungs. He started to feel empty, waves of fatigue enveloping him. The violent surges of his bloodline had faded away, but the side-effects did not go away.

All his fury had congealed into a violent eruption. His blood had grown as hot and dense as lava, destined to destroy all obstacles in its path. Such was the fury of the Archerons.

He was panting hard, still overtaken by the desire to crush his opponent with his own hands. And indeed, that was what he had done. Not just any mage could cast a continuous stream of fireballs that could burn the opponent to ashes. Nobody had seen such...