Rift noticed the shadow first.
A sudden spike in the mana spectrum above the battlefield.
His head tilted upward slightly.
“Ah,” he murmured.
From the ash-thick sky a dark shape plunged downward.
Wings folded tight.
Claws extended.
Rift calmy placed his helmet back on and engaged his visor. He watched the descending demon for half a second.
Thorn screamed as he dove.
The sound tore across the battlefield—raw, furious, and full of terror.
“GET AWAY FROM HER!”
Rift simply sighed.
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“Oh dear.”
The vibroblade vanished back into its sheath and pulled out a metal orb, barely larger than a coin.
Behind him, Vaeris Grimleaf tried to rise.
Blood slicked the basalt beneath her knees.
Her remaining hand reached for her wand—though it would do her no good.
Rift flicked the orb toward the ground between them.
It struck the basalt and bounced once.
Twice.
Thorn saw it as he descended.
Too late.
The device detonated with a sphere of concussive force.
Not light.
Not fire.
A brutal psychic shockwave ripped outward across the battlefield.
Thorn’s scream cut off instantly.
His wings spasmed.
The demon’s body went rigid in midair as the neural blast slammed through his nervous system.
He dropped like a stone.
Vaeris’ vision exploded into white static.
Every nerve in her body screamed at once.
The world tilted violently sideways.
The ground rushed upward.
For a moment the battlefield was silent again.
Rift stepped forward, glancing briefly at Thorn’s unmoving form where the demon had crashed into the ground.
“Unfortunate timing,” he said mildly.
He turned his head slightly, visor scanning the horizon.
Far away, the sky rumbled.
Engines.
Rift sighed.
“Well.”
He crouched beside the unconscious archmage, studying her for a moment, as he blushed a lock of hair away from her face.
“Truly extraordinary,” he whispered.
Then he stood and shrugged his shoulders.
“Oh, why the hell not?”
And with that, he turned and walked away.
