White energy erupted from the central spire of Ashguard. The concussive wave carried no heat or sound but it displaced the air with violent force. The Heaven's Dismissal ward raced upward into the sickly grey clouds choking the valley.
The spectral face of Lord Grigori hovered over the northern mountains. The giant visage twisted into a cruel snare as it prepared to unleash a wave of spiritual pressure upon the mortal infantry below. The smuggler intended to break the minds of the soldiers before the battle even began.
The dome of white light struck the projection right between its ghostly eyes.
The impact sounded like a mountain collapsing into a deep ravine. The spectral face froze for a fraction of a second before the raw administrative magic tore the tether apart. The giant visage f
