Siglos flinched, yet gave no response, bracing his injured wrist with his other hand as he stared at the bear. He wasn't given time to think, his anxiety not even given time to run its course. His mind went blank, his body moving only to the instructions he had been given. It reminded Siglos of how his dad forced him to move, a marionette within his twisted grasp...yet he had no time to dwell on it.
No time to think.
No time to blink.
No time to move.
No time to breathe.
As the seconds counted down, Siglos gripped the sword, his wrist throbbing painfully as he stared at the beast. It took him a second to prepare himself, Everian trembling as he concentrated harder than he had in his entire life. His heart pounded in his ears, deafening him to the world around him.
It took him another second to steady himself, the cold drip of tears and sweat running down his pale flesh. He shifted his center of gravity ever so slightly, and let out one, final breath of air.
As the one-second mark rang out...he fired. As if shot from a cannon, a gigantic, hurricane of wind burst from the sword tip, a ferocious gale more akin to a miniature monsoon than any kind of wind magic. The swirling mass of air danced in the forest, throwing leaves, stones and other small objects in every direction as it moved at speeds faster than a galloping horse. It crossed the distance in but a moment, the fierce wind's tearing into the bear's face and torso as it washed over the animal, as if it had been caught in the center of the mightiest of storms. If Siglos's previous spell was akin to a firecracker, it would be more apt to compare this to a grenade, it's force easily capable of uprooting even the mightiest of oaks.
Siglos's arm snapped almost immediately, his injured wrist bending in a clearly unnatural way as it crumpled into its socket. The rest of the Everian didn't come out unscathed, the sheer force of the projectile sending him airborne, slamming painfully into a nearby tree.
