Three lunged at her at the same time—one low, sweeping at her legs; another barreling for her chest; the last driving its trident straight for her face like a missile of shimmering death.
They came from different angles, converging with predatory precision, making it near impossible to glide away like she had with the others.
They were adapting.
Their movements were no longer robotic—they were learning.
'Three at once… what can I do?' Cynthia thought, breath catching in her throat, her eyes wide as the deadly tips of the tridents gleamed closer, mere seconds from skewering her.
Panic threatened to rise, but something else burned hotter—resolve.
'Combustion magic…'
'Marcus showed the runic combination before…'
'I'll try it.'
Her grip tightened on her wand.
She inhaled deeply, then snapped her wand downward beneath her feet, channeling the exact rune Marcus had shown her. The glyphs burned into her mind like freshly inked scars.
'But I'll add my own twist to it!'
