Ends of Magic

Nathan half-expected the battle to end right there and then. Stella had just dropped a spell that triggered nuclear fusion onto the enemy stronghold. Nathan was still miles away, but the shockwaves alone would have killed a normal person from this distance, not to mention the gamma radiation and other possible radionuclides from the series of rapid detonations.

But Nathan had to remind himself of the older Questors who had shown up at the start of the battle. He couldn’t imagine Mirus dying from that. The old wizard gave off the aura of somebody who had too many tricks up their sleeves to be defeated by something as simple as a giant explosion.

We just cleared the chaff, but I think any genuinely strong Questors probably survived that.

He shivered when he realized he didn’t necessarily include Badud or his gridmates in that category. They were strong, but he expected there were others who were stronger, just like the Ashen Accord had brought in Questors stronger than Sarya and Brox.

Unfortunately, he couldn’t see anything. The valley was covered in dust and debris from the nuclear walking barrage Stella had unleashed, and Nathan saw large pieces of trees and other junk kicked up by the explosions whipping through the air below. This valley was going to be thoroughly wrecked for a good long time, even if the battle ended without any other spells of mass destruction. A strong wind blew from behind Nathan, courtesy of Stella, keeping the airborne grit back and helping him move forward. But his advance wasn’t a headlong dash anymore, since they’d accomplished their first plan and needed to gather more information before they decided what to do next. This next part of the plan was undefined and mostly consisted of "follow Nathan's lead as he scouts out any remaining Questors."

His magical senses could definitely sense active magical signatures from the dust cloud, but they were far away and seemed shielded by some wizardly interference. He redirected his aura to break it, but was distracted by a disturbance in the dust below. Nathan juked to the side as a figure in shining red armor burst upwards with fury on his face and a golden blade leading the way. He covered a thousand feet of distance in the blink of an eye, slashing at Nathan’s torso with a blade that felt like a crystallized core of divine hatred that had no purpose beyond unmaking Nathan. The man was decked out in magical armaments that blazed with the same power. It was the power of Quenfi, the goddess of fire and destruction, and Nathan was sure that the sword could cut through absolutely anything and leave nothing but dead ashes behind.