Ben's eyes snapped toward Tzarek.
But it's too late.
A hand burst from the shadows behind the injured Nephrid, fingers clawed and crackle with violet lightning. It plunged straight through Tzarek's back, bursting from his chest with a sickening crunch.
"ARRRGH!" Tzarek's eyes bulged, his mouth filled with blood.
The real Magus stood behind him, calm and expressionless, eyes glowing. "I told you," he whispered, twisting his arm slowly, "fragile."
Draeven's roar shattered the air.
Vek'tal answered with a bellow of his own. Flames exploded from their cores as the two Nephirid surged forward, leaving trails of molten fury behind them.
The Magus didn't flinch. He yanked his hand back, and Tzarek collapsed. Just as the other two were about to strike, a barrier flared to life. Their blows almost connected, but the barrier exploded outward knocking them off.
Bam!
The force hurled them backward like dolls caught in a storm.
