Zar'veth's attack came without pause.
The moment Arlon saw the spell forming, he moved.
His body reacted before his mind had fully processed what was happening, instincts sharpened through years of battle forcing him into action.
He leaped to the side, his boots barely touching the floor before he propelled himself again, narrowly avoiding the jagged pillars of earth that erupted from where he had just been standing.
Magic.
The realization hit him mid-dodge, sending a shock through his mind even as his body continued moving.
This monster could cast spells.
That alone was enough to set it apart from every non-humanoid enemy he had fought in the Tower.
He had encountered monsters with unique abilities before, even ones with strange techniques resembling magic, but this was different.
This wasn't an innate ability or a physical attack disguised as a spell—this was actual magic, no different from what he or another mage would use in battle.
And it didn't stop.
