One of my hearts exploded. It was about as painful as if someone minced it with a spoon, but in a span of a second. Despite that, my malleable flesh reformed in a moment. My other heart was beating just fine.
I grasped for my chest with all four arms and coughed—not blood, just coughed. It was such a nice act, if you asked me—but Goddess of Wizards found it overdramatic and obviously fake, so I didn't continue with keeling over.
Instead, I threw a volley of wind blades at her.
She began to cast a defensive spell even before they left my fingers. I found from her thoughts that she saw them before—in fact; she saw everything that transpired in Aivena's valley. Everything I went through. And she was disgusted by it.
This made my belly burn hotter than the lava it was made of. That rage, though, didn't make me rush at her. I could control it, make it into a fuel. I had experience, and my soul was forged from steel.
