"Look at my power now! Look at the abilities I have gained! Thunder and rain heed my summons!" Malakas spoke in Elvish, but the voice did not come from his throat. It spread through voodoo magic. As the voodoo magic rippled, he hurled a bolt of lightning at Shane.
Feeling the immense energy within the lightning clearly, Shane furrowed his brows, then relaxed them. He shifted one step aside. The bolt merely grazed and shattered one layer of his shield. Its penetration was insufficient; most of its energy scattered after breaking through the first shield, wasting much of its force. Even if it had struck him head-on, the result would have been the same.
"How was that? Did you feel the power of a god?" Malakas conveyed his delight through voodoo ripples. Just one day ago, he had devoured a "god" and acquired all of its abilities. He had nearly finished digesting it, and his energy had increased severalfold. The little elf before him possessed only half his total energy. His advantage was overwhelming, and victory was already in his grasp.
Shane felt exactly the opposite. The discordant energy within the troll was nowhere near as formidable as it appeared. It had neither balance nor purity, much less technique. It was merely a pile of forcibly accumulated numbers, utterly meaningless.
"Three hits are all I need," Shane said.
"What did you say?"
"I said three hits are all I need to deal with you."
There was no need for further words. His metamagic techniques rapidly unfolded, and trajectory calculations were completed. At the same moment, the attack came. The troll flew backward to widen the distance, hurling lightning from both hands. Seven Pyroblasts met them. Two struck the lightning bolts, silently causing them to collapse. The remaining barrage sealed off