Change of plans

Alisha's chest heaved as beads of sweat rolled down her temples. Her trembling hands gripped her staff, but her spirit wavered. Across from her, Zamazo stood tall and composed, his sinister grin betraying neither fatigue nor strain.

"I must admit," Zamazo said, his tone disturbingly casual, "just when I thought I'd seen the best you had to offer, you go and create a completely new spell. Impressive. Truly, you have a lot of talent."

'How is this even possible?' Alisha thought, her teeth clenched so tightly her jaw ached. She had poured everything she had into that spell, weaving the holy power with precision and intent. It was supposed to wipe Zamazo out—his clones, his essence, everything. Yet, here he stood, unscathed, as if mocking her efforts.

The spell had obliterated his clones, true, but against Zamazo himself, it had done nothing. Nothing.