Kraz responded in turn, letting his own essence explode outward in the shape of earthen spikes. His charge was head-first and claws-second.
"WHAT?! He's not an elder?!" Two voices shouted in unison, both coming from the Tempest Prefecture. Yet neither of the kings looked to the other. Instead, they both glared at Zelsh.
"Did you suspect that I misordered my candidates? Don't expect me to stoop to Brak's level," Zelsh casually joked, infuriating one of the men even further.
Brak roared, "That was merely a tradition, not a rule! And you dared to send one of two adepts to meet my nephew in battle, as if that would be an honor?!"
"For your slimy clan, every public appearance should be considered an honor."
"Says the coward who was gifted my technique without reason--"
"Had you not been shielded by your prefecture lord's mercy, you wouldn't be here, let alone--"
"That's enough. Let's enjoy the match."
