The moment Ignis stepped into the chaos, it was like death itself had descended.
Her blade danced with an almost otherworldly grace, slicing through the air, tearing through flesh and bone alike.
Soldiers were cut down in an instant, their bodies collapsing before they even realized what had happened.
Arterial sprays painted the dirt crimson, limbs flew, and heads rolled, her assault was merciless and unstoppable.
They didn't stand a chance.
One after another, the soldiers were carved up like paper dolls.
Each stroke of her weapon was fluid, brutal, and efficient. It was surgical in precision, yet monstrous in power. They dropped like flies, swatted by a storm too fast to see and too sharp to avoid.
Panic set in.
Some tried to surround her. Others shouted, attempting to regroup, to form a plan or anything. But it was all in vain.
And then... came the desperation.
