"Good choice. He's really not as good as he thinks he is." It has the intended effect - he gets just a little angrier, just a little sloppier - but Zerxus doesn't risk a glance to confirm. He needs to focus on what the wizards are casting if he's going to -

A slash of his hand is all it takes to make the streak of lightning fizzle to nothing, but that's his last Counterspell and the Dean is still casting. He just has to move, raising his sword and dashing forward -

The psychic lance sears right through him. The pain could be forged through, the taste of copper in his mouth is hardly new, but he can't move.