Emilia watches the creature roll away, flames licking at its sides. Watches as it collides with another creature on the way down, two of the sand lurkers momentarily pushed far enough away from them to create a healthy distance. And still, more of them are stirring from beneath, drawn by the scent of their ichor.

As he summons another ice wall, Emilia summons more of her vines. What he does not freeze, she tries to grapple. But the sheer number of them lead her to believe this is not a sustainable strategy.

Not when they're low on fumes, magically speaking.

Her heart pounds fast, throbbing in her ears, as she looks around. Her eyes close in sheer desperation as she hugs Wrath to her, and ... they transvenio. It's her. It's Emilia, mustering what power she has left to tap into an ability she'd forgotten she had. It smells like wildfire smoke. The fog surrounding them is red.

And they're far away from where they'd been only seconds ago.