Divine Intervention

"Go on, then," goaded the Shadow Monarch. "I've seen your magics ten thousand times before."

Was that so? 

"Tss," Tycondrius scoffed. "Don't you think that over--"

He shot his palm forward, casting ⌈Ice Beam⌋, Athena's favorite Spell. 

Divine Armor Sol's glowing core hummed with the strain of power. 

Two draconic wings sprouted from Ki'raak's back, crossing over his chest to shield him from harm. 

He unfurled his frozen wings and took a cursory inspection of the damages. 

"Low level ice magic," he mused, "but amplified to an absurd level. That's new."

Tycon clenched his fist. 

Ki'raak flinched as the second layer of the Spell activated, shattering both of his wings. 

"ErrRgh... H-how petty," he seethed, ink-black blood spilling onto the rooftop tiles, "You ate your own wings-- on your *own* volition. And now you've taken mine?"