The bond between Foster and the elves of the World Tree vibrated with palpable urgency. They had found a solution, but it still had to be passed on to their lord without him losing his concentration in this titanic battle.
Foster was fighting with incredible ferocity.
Even in the Avatar State, he wasn't dominating. He was surviving.
Faced with him, Kassandra was nothing more than a body possessed, a devastating weapon, driven by a power that went beyond sheer brute force. She anticipated every move, regenerated with frightening speed and struck with a rage devoid of humanity.
And yet, despite the whirlwind of steel and magic clashing around him, Foster felt something.
A pulse.
An invisible beat.
The link intensified.
The elves were calling to him.
Not with words, but with sensations, thoughts that brushed against his mind like a breeze laden with intent.
They had a plan.