The eldest cultist stumbled back, barely keeping his footing as Erend crashed into him. Fire from his body exploding outward in a wave of abnormal heat.
The ground hissed beneath Erend's feet. The cultist roared and stabbed his staff into the earth with gritted teeth.
The soil cracked open immediately.
Barbed roots that thick as arms and writhing like serpents burst forth. They coiled around Erend, trying to drag him down—but the Dragonborn's fire only flared brighter.
His crimson flames turned black at the edges, burning hotter than ever as he tore through the vines with a sweeping arc of his arm. They writhed and shrieked as they withered to ash.
But the cultist wasn't done.
With a guttural chant, he slammed his palm onto the earth. From the gash in the ground, something clawed its way out, something unnatural that Erend had seen and killed a while ago was appearing again.
