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... e carves a sharp sigil in the air, and a pressure pulse detonates outward from him in a precise circle. The encroaching swarm stumbles, thrown back as invisible force slams into them—chitin snapping, limbs twisting, the air itself turning into a cage of sharpened gusts.
Brakar doesn't waste the opening.
He surges forward like a charging boulder, his war axe already glowing with violent crimson runes. His voice is a low snarl.
"Tier 4: Ember Rend!"
The axe explodes ...
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