unicorn force blast

But for causing pain, there wasn’t better fuel than pain itself. So, though it hurt, viciously, I fought to take hold of that power and started shaping it with my thoughts as the unicorn rushed forward. But I’d never had that much energy rush into me that quickly before.
Hell’s bells, what had just happened to me?
Flickers of green-gold light began to gather along the unicorn’s central horn, and I suddenly understood.
I had various tools, like my staff, created to help me gather, focus, and direct power.
As did Mab.
It was everything I could do just to hold on, and the unicorn had more acceleration than a Maserati. We started closing the distance to the enemy with alarming rapidity.
I shoved my staff at Butters and shouted, “Hold this!”
He fumbled and managed to take it, and I leaned forward and laid my right palm on the unicorn’s neck.
The creature’s horn flared with pure power, became incandescent with gold-green light, and I felt the humming channels of power rushing through the body of the immortal creature, just like when I sent energy into my staff—only that was like comparing a drinking fountain to a firefighting company’s equipment. I might have been holding more energy than I ever had before, but this creature had been designed to focus and enhance Mab’s power. I couldn’t have overloaded it if I’d tried.
So when we were about fifty yards from the enemy, I sent that stored energy through my right hand into the Winter unicorn, focused my will and intent, modified the shape of the spell on the fly, and howled, “Forzare!”
By the time I’d done that, we were upon them.
A wave of pure kinetic energy, amplified by the unicorn’s horn, rushed out ahead of us like a fast-moving river and broke upon the enemy in a tsunami. Bodies flew from our path as if swatted away by God’s heaviest driver. I don’t mean they flew back, either. I threw them up, like thirty feet up, and before they could come down again we’d sprinted underneath them, so that the unicorn’s hooves were constantly coming down on open ground. From a distance, it must have looked like some enormous gardener had taken a hurricane-force leaf blower to the enemy.
“Holy moly!” shouted Butters.
The unicorn let out a bellowing sound that would have been more appropriate to maybe a bear or a tiger or a low-flying Concorde, and for several seconds the world became a confusing blur of bodies twirling into the air, screams, and flying thunderbolts of excess energy bleeding into the night.
The unicorn blew past the enemy lines and into the clear on the other side—and we started taking gunfire almost instantly. The unicorn didn’t slow down but started running serpentine, snaking left and right with what felt like enough g-force to give me whiplash. Targets moving like that are difficult to hit even in a practice scenario, much less in adrenaline-charged real life, but I was so busy holding on for my life that I couldn’t possibly have brought a counterattack to bear. I couldn’t even see where the fire was coming from.

Battle Ground Chapter 29, Page 276