Selene and Raelar pressed their advantage against the other five Summoners, who were visibly exhausted from their previous confrontation with Lucien.
Selene, with a fierce smile on her face, observed the water that had accumulated on the floor during the fight. Her eyes sparkled with a sudden idea. With a fluid gesture of her hand, she and her frog created more water, flooding the floor up to their ankles.
The liquid reflected the refracted lights in the ice shards around the room, creating an almost hypnotic effect. The other Summoners looked on warily, aware that Selene rarely acted without a hidden purpose.
"What are you plotting, Selene?" Mordred growled, his eyes narrowed with suspicion, while he commanded his magic and his frog. 'That girl was just like Lucien,' he thought. Years of experience had taught him to fear the young female Summoner's unpredictable strategies.
Selene smiled, a dangerous glint in her eyes. "Can't you guess? When I was little, you told it was easy to understand the mind of a foolish girl who wants to be a man because of her da..."
But before Selene could finish her response, Varen intervened, his voice laden with urgency. "Careful! Rember what Lucien did. Heat the water, quickly!"
The four remaining Summoners nodded, understanding the strategy. With a coordination born from fear of Lucien's previous combo, they began forming fireballs in their hands. The air filled with intense heat as they launched them to counter Selene's plan.
Raelar arched an eyebrow, exchanging an amused look with Selene as he created two fireballs, one in each hand. The fire danced between his fingers, reflecting in his eyes with an almost diabolical gleam. "It seems our relatives have learned so lessons," he murmured, his voice laden with sarcasm.
Selene nodded, but her smile didn't falter. Two other fireballs appeared in her hands, the heat intensifying the already charged atmosphere of the room. "Pity for them, it's the wrong lessons."
With a sudden movent, Selene launched her attack followed by a strong gust of wind. The fire from Selene and Raelar intensified the water's heat, quickly bringing it to boiling point. Steam rose in spirals, creating a mist that hindered vision.
Finally, the gust of wind sent the water flying in all directions. The other Summoners, caught off guard, scread in pain as the boiling water scalded their faces. The sound of their agony filled the room, mixing with the hiss of evaporating water.
"Damn it!" Estin roared, trying to shield himself from the bubbling water. His skin reddened from the heat, his eyes filled with fury and pain.
But it was too late. The damage was done. Selene observed with satisfaction as her opponents staggered, their resistance points plumting. The steam slowly dissipated, revealing the pitiful state of her adversaries.
"One more hit," she murmured to herself, coldly calculating. "Just where we wanted them."
Raelar stepped forward, his face a mask of regret. His eyes, however, shone with relentless determination. "I'm sorry, my kin, but it seems it's either you or us," he said, his voice laden with genuine sadness that contrasted with the harshness of his actions. "Unfortunately, your managent must end here. It'll hurt , but I'll have to bear the pain for a greater good."
"Literally, this attack will hurt us too..." Selene announced, preparing for the necessary sacrifice.
The air around Raelar and Selene began to crackle with energy, the atmosphere charging with an almost palpable tension. Both created a ball of wind and another of ice, preparing for a devastating attack. Ice crystals floated in the air, reflecting light and creating a terrifying yet beautiful spectacle.
The other Summoners looked on in horror, recognizing the imminent threat. Their faces, already marked by the pain of boiling water, contorted with a mixture of fear and desperation while they tried to react, but it was too late.
Varen, gathering his last reserves of mana, conjured several fireballs to try and cancel the ice explosion he understood was coming. The flas danced in his hands, a last desperate attempt to change the course of the battle. He sent his frog to attack and hinder Raelar using its water blades, while he launched himself towards Selene with a desperate cry. "Don't do it, you'll kill us for real!"
But Selene was prepared. With a movent of her eyes, her frog stopped impeding Mordred and Estin's frogs and created a water barrier in front of Varen's fire attack, preventing it from blocking the combo. Water and fire clashed in an explosion of steam, creating a montary curtain that hid Selene from view. "Not so fast, darling," she smiled, her voice cutting through the mist with a mocking tone.
Selene and Raelar launched their attacks facing each other, generating an explosion of ice shards similar to Lucien's.
The air filled with razor-sharp crystals, flying in all directions. Selene and Raelar knew they would lose 14 points themselves, but their resistances were much better than what little the other five had. Kairos, still unconscious, seed destined to die painlessly amidst the chaos.
Just when all seed lost for Kairos, Varen, Mordred, Estin, and Lotar, an overwhelming presence filled the room. The air beca dense, charged with an ancient and powerful energy.
With an almost imperceptible movent of his hand, dark forms they had never seen before materialized almost instantly around the Summoners.
These mysterious shadows covered them from the damage of the ice explosion, defying all logic and expectation. They seed to erge from nowhere, like shadows coming to life, moving with an unnatural fluidity.
From the shadows erged a figure that made all present hold their breath. Fathoran, the patriarch of the families who never left his chambers or the harem, advanced with deliberate steps, his presence filling the room with undeniable authority.
His body, surprisingly young and athletic for his hundred years, was not naked this ti; a strange robe adorned him. On his hooded head, undisturbed by the chaos surrounding him, rested a small white rabbit with red eyes.
"Well, well," Fathoran said, his jovial voice contrasting with the tension in the air. "What do we have here? A little family dispute?"
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