Chapter 103: Fighting the elves
The world around Alex was a dizzying blur of heat and motion, the masked elves closing in with a relentless, almost mechanical precision that made his heart pound like a war drum in his chest.
His eyes darted frantically, searching for an escape, his mind still reeling from the system’s chime: <Pyrotechnics is locked>.
Desperation clawed at him, and he checked the system again, his breath hitching as a new message glowed in his vision:
<Pyrotechnics locked until Level 5>.
A surge of frustration crashed through him—Level 5?
He was nowhere near that, and the realization hit like a fist to the gut, sharp and bruising. His telekinesis was already strained, flickering like a dying ember, and his infliction ability, untested in a fight this brutal, felt like a wild card he wasn’t sure he could play.
Options were slipping through his fingers, and the elves’ menacing advance left no room for mistakes.
The first elf thrust their hands forward, conjuring a roaring ball of fire that tore through the air, its crackling intensity painting the path in flickering orange light.
Alex lunged to the side, his muscles screaming, his boots skidding on the uneven ground.