The change in the land didn't so much as capture a flinch from Goldheve, who held his stance before sliding both of his blades together--unleashing a sharp shriek from the clash of steel as sparks flew into the stale air.
"Eight Vasus: Agni."
It was the first time something resembling magic left Goldheve's lips, but it wasn't something Ren had ever heard of. The phrase conjured black markings across Goldheve's body before flames coiled his drawn sabers.
"What kind of magecraft is that?"
Ren asked, enamored with the sight as the newly manifested fire held a different pressure and heat to that he experienced from standard heat. A streak of cobalt was present within the enigmatic flames, running through the flowing scarlet.
"Magecraft? Don't get it twisted, kid. What you're looking at is real power, not the flowery bullshit you're taught in the west. Watch for yourself."
