The inheritance of magic

The silence had returned to the makeshift arena. The mercenaries, still frozen in place, began to tremble as the realization dawned on them: they were no match for Reinhardt.

Varnov, meanwhile, wore a conflicted expression. He was both enraged by his defeat and captivated by what he had just witnessed.

But before he could react, I spoke, my eyes fixed intently on Reinhardt.

"You still haven't answered my question."

Reinhardt turned his head towards me, his arrogant smile faltering slightly.

"Ah… are you referring to magic?"

"Obviously."

Reinhardt sighed and took a few steps toward me, raising his right hand. A faint golden glow began to shimmer around his palm.

"You are already aware that the goddess Solaria has withdrawn her blessing from us, correct?"

I nodded.