Lorroakan was naturally no match for the Nightsong.
As the Nightsong's wings brushed past his trembling staff, the magical core of the entire tower emitted a dying shriek. Countless floating crystal chandeliers shattered one after another, and the flying shards carved bone-deep gashes into the wizard's exposed skin.
The astrolabe on the dome suddenly spun in reverse, and the sparks bursting from the gilded gears scorched his hair. Spasmodically, he tried to cast a teleportation spell, only to find that his magic circuits had long since been frozen by some divine power. Blood dripped down the cracks of his staff, ruining the magic circle he had originally intended to use to imprison the Nightsong.
Chapter 137