Perhaps only at this moment did he truly realize that the boy he had watched grow up had truly reached a level beyond his grasp. It was an indescribable blow to Mordo's confidence. He had always believed himself to be immensely important to Kamar-Taj—and indeed he was—but not as irreplaceable as he had imagined. Mordo watched the Emperor effortlessly weave together millions of runes, calculating and completing the spell model at an astonishing speed before drawing out a chain glimmering with golden radiance. Each link, forged from pure Outer Dimensional energy, stood half a man tall. The completed spell spat out over a hundred meters of chain at once, which, guided by magic, was nailed firmly to the edge of the stone gate.
Such work would ordinarily require at least twenty Arcanists, thirty minutes, and a large number of spells written in advance on parchment. Mordo's team was desperately trying to catch up, but the Emperor needed only a casual wave of his hand to accomplish it in the blink of an eye. The gap was plainly visible. Before the Emperor arrived, Kamar-Taj's Arcanists had made countless efforts but still failed to stop the Silver Stone Gate from slowly opening. They could only contain the gap to a width that allowed ten people to pass through side by side. Yet after the Emperor cast out that chain, the Silver Stone Gate began shrinking at a visible pace instead. Even if it closed only a few centimeters every few seconds, every movement of the massive silver gate carried an oppressive sense of colossal dread. Still, it meant the situation was improving.
This time, Queen Yaaxil did not step upon the Bone Reefs again. The surging tide of blood parted out of thin air, and the bloodwater outlined a completely transparent bridge.