With a single thought, the circle in Lian's mind shrank. If it had previously been as large as an open hand, it was now no bigger than a clenched fist. Drawing a smaller circle required less time, but Lian had not considered one critical issue: a smaller circle demanded far greater precision in its creation.
However, for the task at hand—striking a stationary target—the risk was worth the reward. The crooked-teeth worm, with its searing aura, remained immobile, a perfect mark for Lian's new approach. With remarkable speed, he traced the smaller circle in his mind.
Just as he was about to complete the gesture—
"Ignis Arde, Ignis Globus," he proclaimed with unwavering resolve, the arcane incantation flowing from his lips like a sacred vow.
