The sky above Erantel was a maelstrom of destruction, the air thick with the acrid stench of burning mana and the metallic tang of blood.
Veradine and Hagan continued to fight with everything they had, their movements a blur of lightning and wind as they clashed against Zahara's overwhelming power.
But it wasn't enough. It was never going to be enough.
Hagan lunged forward, his bastard sword glowing with wind as he aimed a powerful slash at Zahara.
She deflected it effortlessly with her staff, the force of the impact sending a shockwave rippling through the air.
Veradine followed up with a barrage of lightning spears, each one crackling with deadly energy as they hurtled toward Zahara.
She waved her hand, and the spears disintegrated into harmless sparks before they could reach her.
Hagan gritted his teeth, his swords glowing brighter as he channeled more wind into them. "We can't keep this up," he said, his voice strained. "She's too strong."
Veradine nodded, his spear crackling with renewed energy. "We have no choice. We have to hold her off until reinforcements arrive."
But Zahara wasn't giving them the chance. Her expression remained blank, her movements precise and calculated as she raised her staff.
The air around her darkened, and a massive sphere of darkness formed above her, pulsing with an ominous energy.
Hagan and Veradine braced themselves, their weapons at the ready, but they knew they were outmatched.
The sphere of darkness shot toward them, and they barely managed to dodge, the attack obliterating the ground where they had stood moments before.
The shockwave from the explosion sent them flying, their bodies slamming into the ground with bone-jarring force.
Hagan pushed himself to his feet, his swords glowing with wind as he prepared to attack again.
But before he could move, Zahara's telekinesis took hold of him. He froze in place, his body suspended in mid-air, his eyes wide with shock and fear.
"Hagan!" Veradine shouted, his voice filled with desperation.
He lunged forward, his spear crackling with lightning, but Zahara waved her hand, and a wave of telekinetic force sent him flying.
Zahara's expression remained blank as she tightened her grip on Hagan.
His body twisted and contorted, his bones snapping like twigs as she crushed him with her telekinesis.
His screams echoed through the air, a horrifying sound that sent chills down the spines of everyone who heard it.
And then, with a final, sickening crunch, Hagan's body went limp.
Zahara didn't stop there. She hurled his lifeless body toward the ground with enough force to create a massive crater.
The impact turned his body to paste, the shockwave killing any nearby civilians and city guards.
The ground shook violently, the destruction spreading like a ripple across the city.
Veradine stared in horror, his heart pounding in his chest. Hagan was dead.
One of the few [S-] rankers in Sapin, a man who had fought countless battles and emerged victorious, had been killed with such ease.
Veradine's hands trembled as he gripped his spear, his mind racing with fear and despair.
But he didn't have time to process what had happened.
Zahara appeared in front of him in a blur of speed, her cold, empty eyes staring into his.
Before he could react, she grabbed his face, her grip like iron. He tried to struggle, but it was no use.
Zahara's telekinesis took hold of him, crushing his jaw, his arms, his legs, and breaking his ribs in seconds.
The pain was unbearable, but he couldn't even scream.
With a flick of her wrist, Zahara launched Veradine toward the city gates.
His body hurtled through the air, the shockwave from his flight causing destruction in its path.
He crashed into the ground near the gates, his body broken and bloodied, his consciousness slipping away.
The city guards and other moderately powerful awakeners who had been watching the fight immediately gave up any thought of joining the battle.
They turned and ran, their faces filled with terror as they fled toward the city gates, desperate to escape Zahara's slaughter.
But there was no escape. Zahara raised her staff, and dark spikes erupted from the ground, impaling anyone who dared to run.
She waved her hand, and her telekinesis crushed people into paste, their screams cut short as their bodies were reduced to nothing.
The city of Erantel was in ruins, its streets filled with death and destruction.
And Zahara stood at the center of it all, her expression blank, her staff glowing with dark energy.
She was a force of nature, a harbinger of chaos, and there was no one left to stop her.