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Pandreo had seen firsthand just how powerful the Emblem Rings were. He’d watched as Timerra and Ike worked together to take out an entire swarm of corrupted in the span of merely heartbeats. His sister had been reckless before, but with Lyn’s speed backing her up, she was nigh-on unstoppable. What Yunaka could do with Corrin giving her a smokescreen to work with almost didn’t bear thinking about.
He himself had been entrusted with the Bracelet of the Strategist, as he preferred staying out of the thick of the combat to focus on healing, but he still felt a rush whenever he borrowed Soren’s power to cast Bolting, channeling the very spirits in the earth to strike an enemy, not with thunder magic, but an actual bolt of lightning itself.
It was no wonder that the rings had been kept under lock and key by the royal families, even in times of war.
At present, however, he was no longer wielding Soren’s power – the Divine Dragon had asked him to instead focus entirely on healing, and had presented him with a bond ring, created from Lucina’s memories of her aunt, which gave his own healing powers just a bit more strength. Sometimes, he wondered if she realized just how incredible that ability was – she’d almost seemed apologetic, entrusting him with a magical artifact that would itself be considered a holy treasure, simply because it wasn’t as strong as the other legendary artifacts she possessed.
That was besides the point. He would have gladly relinquished Soren’s strength even had she not offered such a replacement, simply because of what she’d intended to do with it.
Because the Divine Dragon wasn’t the only dragon who had graced him with her presence.
He’d known that Veyle was capable of miracles ever since that horrible moment when the Divine Dragon had fallen, only for Veyle to wrench more magical energy out of the aether than could be channeled by a hundred men and demand the world to give her back.
Seeing her now… if he hadn’t already been a religious man, he imagined that the sight of her on the battlefield would have caused him to convert right then and there. As it was, he was simply really, really thankful that she was now working alongside them, and not for Sombron.
He didn’t know if the Emblem Rings worked as power amplifiers, multiplying that strength which was already there to new levels, or if they were more akin to instruments that dragons were simply more innately skilled at playing. All he knew was that when Veyle had engaged Soren’s power, he’d had to remind himself to breathe, as every hair on the back of his neck stood up at once.
He was equally glad that no one was presently in need of healing, and so he could watch her without guilt.
Pandreo knew from experience that while the Emblem Rings were powerful, they did not make one invincible. Both firsthand, in a rather harrowing encounter with one of the corrupted… and from times when the Divine Dragon had abruptly abandoned whatever goal she was currently pursuing, clutching her pendant with haunted eyes, and ordering him to be ready to heal someone with only superficial wounds, mere moments before they took a near-lethal injury. So, when Veyle simply walked towards the oncoming horde, he scrambled to retrieve his physic staff. While her strength was beyond that of mortal men, she was still vulnerable. As the first of the corrupted lashed out, he prayed that he would be quick enough to support her, readying himself to cast before the next could reach her.
As it turned out, he needn’t have bothered. Instead of reaching for a vulnerary, Veyle simply turned toward the corrupted who struck her, reached for her tome, and –
It was as if the world split apart.
The corrupted wasn’t just defeated. It was destroyed.
Pandreo’s staff fell from nerveless fingers when he saw what happened next. The magic which had animated the corrupted had come from a Fell Dragon – whether from Sombron or Veyle’s other self, he did not know – and suddenly bereft of purpose, instead of merely dissipating, it sought to return to the source. Namely, the closest living Fell Dragon.
The one who had just slain it.
Whether used for good or for ill, magic was magic, and this magic had already been used to repair and restore life to once-dead flesh. Clearly, as Veyle’s skin knit itself back together with greater efficiency than even a High Priest could manage, a flesh wound was a mere triviality in comparison.
From behind, Pandreo heard a sigh of relief, and as he turned, he saw Mauvier lowering his own staff, held in a white-knuckled grip.
“Almost makes our job redundant, doesn’t it?”
Mauvier fixed him with a look. Evidently, he was not one for banter. A shame.