Nevertheless, as certain as the cloudy sky and the relentless wind foretold a storm of thunder that was likely to come, he wasn't so quick to assume that Vol had been entirely dealt with. He ceased to produce those Ogres that he'd started the battle with, and those Grand Fire Mages, as if he'd hit some kind of limit – but those demons still came to hand occasionally, and it was those that Varn was wary of most of all. Especially since two were streaking towards him in black flashes at that very moment.
He couldn't declare victory when he couldn't see it. All he could say was that in the boiling pot of the battlefield, he'd managed to inflict a certain number of bubbles that bore his colour – and he'd managed to push the chaos a little towards his favour than it had been before.
