The roars of the three-headed beast thundered through the canyon, shaking loose gravel from the walls.
Its six scarlet eyes locked onto Logan. The middle head suddenly reared back, then spat out a torrent of blazing dark red fire, the flames reeking of sulfur and surging forward like molten magma.
Even before the flames reached them, the heat distorted the air. Shallow puddles evaporated instantly, and the guards felt their hair curl and their skin sting.
“Stand back!”
Logan’s low shout rang out. Instead of retreating, he stepped forward, placing himself in front of everyone. He didn’t draw his sword. His fingers pressed together like a blade, and he thrust forward.
A crescent-shaped green sword energy appeared, tearing through the air with a sharp whistle. It slashed into the torrent of fire.
There was no deafening explosion—the green arc simply split the flames in half, as cleanly as a knife through butter.
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