Overpowered Wizard

Ruven heard without hearing a terrible roar that made his green nature magic more unresponsive. His skills felt like they weren’t his to command. The barriers surrounding him and the other scouts faltered, their talismans growing hot, almost to the point of malfunctioning.

Then Ruven saw a sight that made him feel his heart drop into his stomach – their barrages of yellow attacks snuffed away. Only a few had struck the Dark Lord, and those few were nowhere near enough. Now they were disappearing like embers in the rain.

The Dark Lord continued to emit his horrid, soundless noise. A noise that was like a call from the void, making the magic belonging to Ruven and the other scouts hard to wield or mostly invalid.

Not everybody had the benefit of direct training under his great grandmother, so many of the scouts were worse off than Ruven. But the longer they remained inside the listening distance of the maddening noise, the more they lost their edge and advantages.

Ruven mustered all the magical prowess he had to avoid outright failure in his abilities. He pressed forward with a rush of blitzing speed. He manipulated the wood of his staff and made it heavy, long, and spiky toward the end.

Then he swung at the Dark Lord’s void-body.

His staff passed straight through. He felt no impact, no sinking of the flesh, just nothing. Yet, at the end of his staff swing, the weapon came out frayed, ruined, and even more sapped of inherent magical power.

Ruven’s eyes bulged out as he swung another strike, and the same effect happened. He couldn’t hit the Dark Lord physically. The black fiend remained unaffected.

The outline of his body truly held the pure essence of the void, where nothingness held a purpose to house the purest darkness, the most maddening creatures, and the end of all that was sacred, magical, and good.