Rowan had imagined countless worst-case scenarios. When facing an enemy, he always prepared for the worst.
When the Teleportation Spell took effect and Rowan arrived in Southshore, he realized he had still underestimated the enemy's cruelty.
Flames raged. A wall of fire stretched across Southshore from east to west, burning the sky crimson.
Thick smoke filled the air, punctuated by the screams of townspeople and cries for help.
Whoosh! That restless voice assailed him again. Through these brutal scenes, an endless pressure bore straight into Rowan's heart.
Rowan's vision blurred. He dared not imagine what had happened to Southshore, or how many people the fire had killed.
His heart raced, his breathing quickened, and his chest felt so tight that he was almost suffocating.
Darkness gradually clouded his eyes. Only a faint glimmer remained, seemingly calling to him.
What exactly is this?
Rowan tried to touch that light.
Standing behind Rowan, Rhonin seemed to notice something. He immediately pressed a hand against Rowan's shoulder and poured a distinct Arcane Torrent into his body.
The darkness before his eyes cleared at once. Southshore's blaze still weighed on Rowan, but the oppressive feeling from before was gone.
That strange sensation was utterly inexplicable.
It seemed to be guiding me toward a choice.
Steadying himself, Rowan looked at Rhonin and Jaina. "Is there a quick way to put out Southshore's fire before it's too late? This town has stood for over a century, and more than a hundred thousand lives depend on it. We can't let one fire destroy it."
Rhonin and Jaina did not answer immediately. The flames had already spread through a fifth of the town, and the blaze had grown far too extensive. Conventional firefighting methods would do nothing. Only a massive blizzard could freeze the districts that had yet