The ice shards launched from the scroll sliced through the air with a piercing whistle, leaving trails of frost upon the marble slabs. But at the very heartbeat they should have buried themselves in Quivertertar’s chest, the space before the throne warped. The Crimson Lord simply vanished, leaving behind nothing but a cloud of bloody mist that dissipated instantly.

  Eni went rigid, her senses sharpened to a razor's edge. The disorientation lasted only a fraction of a second—right until the sinister sound of rending air erupted behind her. Eni’s instincts outpaced her thoughts. She spun on her heels and, sparing no resources, activated an emerald scroll. Around her flared an elegant, shimmering green circle woven from the pure energy of nature.

  In that same instant, a blow descended from above. Quivertertar, his eyes now burning with a frenzied scarlet flame, transformed his bone staff mid-flight. Blood magic caused the artifact to swell, sprouting pulsing veins and morphing into a monstrous, massive mace crowned with jagged spikes.

  "A-HA-HA-HA-HA!" Quivertertar’s mad, choking laughter filled the hall, echoing off the high vaults.

  He pressed down with his entire weight, pouring not just physical strength but the magical essence of his fallen followers into the mace. The green sphere of the shield began to vibrate. Eni watched as a web of cracks crawled across the protective barrier right before her face. The emerald light flickered and dimmed under the onslaught of the crimson blight.

  "Jump back, Eni!" the Voice broke into her consciousness, its tone uncharacteristically alarmed.

  At the exact second the shield shattered into a thousand useless sparks with a deafening chime, Eni performed a backward roll. The heavy mace slammed into the floor where she had stood a heartbeat before, kicking up stone splinters and shaking the very foundation of the palace.

  "Shut up, Voice! You're breaking my focus!" Eni growled through gritted teeth.

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  She didn't waste time retrieving her primary sword. Seizing a heavy shield and the serrated blade of a cultist she’d previously slain, she lunged into a counterattack. Quivertertar, easily reverting his mace back into the form of a slender staff, met her with a snide smirk. The hall filled with the clang of metal against magical wood. They exchanged blows with such velocity that their movements blurred into a single continuous streak of steel and blood.

  Eni fought with cold precision, trying to conserve every movement, while her opponent literally reveled in the process. He danced, feinted, and cackled with delight at every spark. Suddenly, Quivertertar leapt back several meters. His face contorted into a grimace of maniacal ecstasy; his eyes bulged, his rotten teeth bared, and he charged forward again.

  Eni braced behind her shield, preparing to take a head-on collision, but at the last moment, Quivertertar used his vanishing trick again. Space collapsed, and he reappeared right behind her left shoulder. Eni began to pivot, throwing her sword up for a block, but Quivertertar had no intention of striking with a weapon.

  Instead of the expected staff blow, he snapped his leg forward in a lightning-fast kick. A sickening, dry crunch followed—Eni’s kneecap simply could not withstand the directed force of a solid kick to the joint. Her support gave way, and she began to pitch forward, losing her footing. In that defenseless moment, Quivertertar backhanded her across the face with the pommel of his staff.

  The world flipped for Eni. Her body skidded across the hall by sheer inertia, slamming into the wall beneath one of the bas-reliefs with a dull thud. She slid to the floor, leaving a smear of gore on the stone, and lay still, showing no signs of life.

  "Heh... How pathetic. A woman is a woman, after all," Quivertertar tossed out arrogantly, fastidiously shaking the hem of his scarlet cloak.

  He was absolutely certain of his victory. Considering the round over, the Crimson Lord slowly turned his back to her, intending to saunter back to his throne and savor his triumph. But the silence of the hall was cut by an unexpected sound—the tinkle of breaking glass.

  Quivertertar froze. He turned slowly and stood paralyzed in amazement. Eni was standing by the wall. Her leg was perfectly straight; her face, mutilated a moment ago by the staff blow, was clear of wounds, save for a thin trickle of blood from her nose. In her hand, she crushed the empty vial of a regeneration elixir, supercharged by her own anomalous physiology.

  Eni coldly wiped the blood from her face with the back of her hand and adjusted her grip on the trophy sword. Her eyes glowed with icy resolve, and beneath her uniform, the magical stockings tightened once more, stabilizing her reconstructed joints.

  "Again," she said firmly, her voice devoid of even a trace of fear.

  Quivertertar didn't fly into a rage. On the contrary, his face stretched into a wide, truly demented smile. He slowly ran his tongue over his lips, licking away invisible droplets of blood, as his staff began to pulse with a beckoning crimson light.

  "Hee-hee-hee-hee," he laughed, barely containing a shiver of delight. "Oh, how I want to break you... But I admit, this is finally getting interesting."