"You're brothers! You and the other one, and somehow... you have another brother... and your mother knew Balthyrov... and!!!" Xylon exclaimed, summarizing the scattered information from the second skyer's confession. His words held a tinge of impatience, as if he sought to piece together the fragmented puzzle presented before him.
In an abrupt and chilling display of power, Xylon cast a spell, conjuring a prison made of glass. The transparent enclosure seemed devoid of air, a suffocating trap designed to induce slow torment rather than immediate death.
It was a calculated move, a method to instill fear and urgency without delivering a fatal blow.
The second skyer found himself confined within the transparent walls, the air within the glass prison growing thinner with every passing moment.
Panic and dread flickered in his eyes as the realization of the impending suffocation set in.
