The Final Stand

Keira's grip on the Veilbreaker Staff tightened, her knuckles turning white as she faced Count Gregor. His smirk was maddening, a mask of unshakable arrogance that made her blood boil.

"You can't hurt me, girl," Count Gregor taunted, his voice dripping with arrogance. "You're too weak. Your spells are nothing more than parlor tricks compared to my defenses."

Her pulse pounded in her ears. She refused to let his words shake her. Raising her Veilbreaker staff, she unleashed a relentless barrage—blades of wind slicing through the air, arcs of searing fire twisting toward him, jagged shards of ice streaking forward with lethal precision. Yet, each attack met the shimmering barrier of Gregor's Amulet of Aegis, dissipating like harmless wisps of smoke.

Frustration gnawed at her. She needed more. Something stronger.