Zahyla's words echoed in his mind: "All I need is you."
Elio reviewed the numbers while evading the claws of two artromus. His magical damage of 21,000 was superior to Zahyla's attack power of 2,000; that's why the spheres had withstood eleven impacts before yielding.
His magic was more powerful, a fact that should have given him an advantage.
But that meant nothing against an enemy with two million resistance. He couldn't defeat her by any conventional means.
The encirclement tightened.
The artromus moved in increasingly tight patterns, pushing him inexorably toward the center where Zahyla waited. His transformation was running out, and his options with it. Each passing second brought him closer to the inevitable.
'Think,' he urged himself while dodging another coordinated attack. His enemy's resistance was simply too great.
Not even his best attacks could...
An idea.
