Within a matter of seconds, the battlefield underwent a dramatic transformation, becoming an unrecognizable landscape. Swaths of Sun Magic rained down upon the hollow, devastating groups of bandits and turning the evening into noon. Soltair swung his sword with immense force, forcing the Bandit Leader onto the defensive, reversing their positions from moments earlier.
"I must say," Soltair began casually. "I was wondering how we'd track you down. But to think you'd deliver yourself to our feet…"
"Shut it," the bandit roared, smashing his axe down in fury.
Soltair gracefully sidestepped the blow before striking at the haft. The bandit's eyes widened, a curse forming on his lips, but he had invested too much power into the attack to retract it. The sword passed through cleanly, severing the enchanted wood like butter. He stumbled back, staring at his sundered weapon before Soltair's next attack forced him to one knee, panting.
