"Lucan," Victor's voice dripped with malice, "you should've known better than to walk into our trap. That relic belongs to me."
Lucan's gaze locked on Victor, his expression impassive as he gauged the situation. The dark energy swirling around Victor lacked the lethal edge he had anticipated. Without hesitation, Victor unleashed a torrent of shadow magic, a mass of writhing tendrils that snaked through the air, aiming straight for Lucan and Maris.
Lucan's hand moved in a swift, fluid motion, tracing a pattern in the air as he cast a counter-spell. A dome of shimmering blue light materialized around them, intercepting the dark tendrils with a crackling energy that dissolved them into nothing.
