The forest was on fire, and it was mostly not Gale's fault.
He ain't the one who came to attack, or cast that flame spell. It was that high gold. Gale merely defended it and redirected it to defend himself.
The man was dead. Gold ranker or not, he was mere charcoal now, burned along with the tree. The molten flame didn't even leave him much time to scream in agony as the fire took him. Still, it wasn't really a pleasant way to die, or kill someone, but under these circumstances, Gale would take anything.
The flames spread like wildfire around the surroundings, burning dry or live trees, respectively, as a pungent smell spread in the air. Nothing like the smell of natural burning. It had a dangerous vibe to it.
"Bastard!" the leader of the crew bellowed, shooting for Gale.
