Scylla and Seryth clashed with furious precision, sparks of fire and mist scattering with every strike of their blades. Scylla brought both Ether Twins down in a blazing arc, but Seryth’s wings unfolded like a shield of scaled emerald — the impact rang out like thunder, sending Scylla skidding backward across the scorched ground.
Seryth’s eyes gleamed.
“Demon Magic Arts: Mist of Paralysis.”
Her twin daggers dissolved into smoke as her scaly hands pulsed with an ominous green glow. Then, like a living plague, a dark mist poured from her form — coiling, whispering, spreading faster than breath.
Scylla leapt back, but the fog was relentless. It swallowed the air around her before she could react. She inhaled once — a mistake.
Her movements faltered. Her armor’s flames flickered weakly,
