As the tense silence enveloped the domain, a palpable anticipation hung in the air, pregnant with the promise of impending conflict. The Sage, a figure of quiet resolve amidst the ethereal chaos, remained poised and unwavering, his gaze fixed upon his opponent.
A fleeting moment of tension pierced the stillness, shattered by a subtle movement from the Sage—a mere flicker of his finger, imperceptible to most. In the blink of an eye, reality seemed to twist and warp, and a gasp echoed through the arena as Elrion's arm was severed in a swift, decisive motion.
The shock that crossed Elrion's face was as momentary as a lightning strike—a fleeting glimpse of surprise before it dissolved into a mask of agony. A blood-curdling scream tore through the domain, an anguished cry that pierced the silence, or so it seemed.
