The moment Elena smirked, the chamber exploded into chaos.
Dark tendrils of blackened magic shot toward Elena, the air thick with the sharp scent of sulfur and burned ozone. The very floor beneath them cracked, pulsing with ancient curses woven into the foundation of the witches' lair.
But Elena was already moving.
Her body twisted effortlessly, dodging the attack as if she had already seen it happen.
The shadows lashed out again—dozens of writhing tendrils seeking to bind her, tear her apart—but she simply stepped aside, her coat barely shifting as they missed their mark.
Her laughter rang through the chamber.
"You're getting slow, Faye."
Faye's eyes burned with fury.
She raised her hand and the air around Elena compressed instantly, an invisible force threatening to crush her bones to dust.
Elena exhaled sharply as the pressure clamped down on her limbs, forcing her body to freeze.
Faye's smirk deepened.