Selric, the last standing, took a step back, fear flashing in his eyes. He raised his hands, attempting to conjure one final illusion, but Draven was already upon him.
Selric's hands trembled as he attempted to weave the final illusion, but Draven's calm, piercing gaze met his with an icy precision that froze the air between them. The pens hovered in the air, waiting for their master's command. For Draven, this was no longer a battle. It had become an intricate puzzle, one he was about to solve before his wide-eyed students, Amberine, Elara, and Maris, who remained transfixed by the sheer mastery displayed before them.
"Illusion Magic: Shadow Waltz," Draven muttered, identifying the spell as the threads of Selric's magic twisted into form. His voice was measured, controlled. "An advanced misdirection spell. It creates phantom images of the caster, making it impossible to discern the real one. Effective, if the opponent lacks focus."
