Namara's eyes turned to one of the warriors standing behind the two women. She tilted her head, her lips curving into a sly smile, and then blew a kiss toward him, the gesture almost casual.

The 'ugly and deaf woman' raised an eyebrow. "Really? That's your big move?"

Namara's smile widened, unbothered. "Really."

The spell struck its mark. The warrior blinked, his grip on his spear faltering for a moment before his eyes locked onto the woman who had spoken. His posture shifted, rigid but intent, and he took a deliberate step forward.

The woman frowned, noticing the movement out of the corner of her eye. "Hmm?" She turned slightly, confusion flickering across her face as she looked back at him.

Namara acted in the same breath, her hands moving in a fluid, almost lazy gesture. A dark energy swirled around her, coalescing into the twisted forms of wailing, translucent souls. Their anguished cries filled the air, hollow and weeping. The spectral figures shot forward like vipers, their hands clawing and grasping as they wrapped around the woman.

The souls clung to her, their cries growing louder, their faces contorted with grief and malice. Her arms jerked against the restraints, her movements desperate and wild, but the spectral grips held firm. Her eyes, now filled with anger and a flicker of fear.

"What the—?" the woman snarled, trying to twist free.

Namara only smiled, cocking her head to the side. "Ugly, deaf, and stupid."

She watched with satisfaction as the warrior's spear pierced the woman's stomach with a crunch of armor and flesh. The ghostly binds held her firmly in place as her gasp turned to choking, black and green ichor spilling from her lips, staining the ground beneath her. Namara smirked, her confidence brimming as she released the souls. They unraveled from the woman, their anguished wails subsiding as they flowed back into Namara's outstretched hands.

"See?" Namara said mockingly, brushing her hands off as though she'd just completed a chore. "Not boring at all."

But the woman didn't fall. Instead, she lifted her head slowly, her blackened eyes locking onto Namara with a chilling intensity. Her lips twisted into a snarl, and she grabbed the warrior by the throat, lifting him off the ground with ease. His hands clawed uselessly at her arm, a gurgling cry escaping his lips.

With a sickening wet rip she tore out his throat. Blood sprayed out as his body convulsed, then crumpled to the ground.

The woman spat a glob of black ichor onto the floor, straightening like the spear wound in her stomach was just a minor inconvenience. Her corrupted veins pulsed with a sickly green light, and the edges of the wound began to knit together, though dark streaks of ichor still leaked from it.

"Alright," she said. "Enough of this."

She gestured with her head to the other cultists surrounding them. "Kill them."

The command hung in the air for only a moment before the cultists surged forward. The first warrior launched himself at Namara, blade raised.

Before he could reach her, Vyriss struck. The harrier's jaws snapped around the man in midair with a bone-crushing sound, his scream cut off instantly. With a single, decisive motion, Vyriss shook the lifeless body, before tossing it aside.

"Good girl," Namara said.

The second cultist darted toward Kale, his eyes full of murderous intent. Kale, still holding Rika, pivoted slightly, summoning a blade in front of him. The blade materialized in an instant, sharp and glowing faintly, its tip aimed forward.

The attacker couldn't stop his momentum. He slammed into the blade, impaling himself as his weapon fell from his hand. Blood bubbled from his lips as his body shuddered. Kale summoned a second blade sideways and pushed it forward, flinging the cultist's body through the air before it crashed into the ground several feet away.

Kale shifted his stance, keeping Rika secure in his arms as he looked for the next threat. "Stay with me," he said softly to her.

The air filled with a sinister hiss as the mages unleashed volleys of crackling projectiles. They flew through the air, trailing green fumes that sizzled and burned through the ground on impact, leaving deep, blackened scars.

Kale summoned blade after blade to intercept the attacks. The projectiles struck his conjured weapons with sharp cracks, disintegrating into bursts of acrid vapor. His movements were precise, but the relentless assault gave him no room to breathe.

"Kale!" Liliana's voice cut through the chaos. "Leave her with me. I'll protect her—I have a plan."

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"What's the plan?" he called back, as he deflected another incoming projectile with a summoned blade.

"You make them bleed," she said.

Kale nodded. "I can do that." He crouched carefully, lowering Rika in front of Liliana. "Liliana will protect you," he said softly, brushing a stray lock of blood-matted hair from Rika's face.

Then he turned to his harrier. "Saryn!" he called. The creature immediately perked up, its glowing slitted eyes locking onto him. "Protect them like you'd protect me."

Saryn clicked in acknowledgment and moved forward, positioning itself between Liliana and the advancing enemies, its angular jaws parting slightly to reveal rows of needlelike teeth.

Liliana looked at Saryn and then back at Kale. "Go," she said. "I'll handle things here."

Kale straightened, and turned back toward the battle. "Alright," he said, pulling out Aeloria's Promise and Mistress of the Enria. "Let's make this quick."

The mages continued their relentless assault, hurling crackling projectiles that hissed and spat as they streaked through the air. The corrupted warriors accompanying them closed in, weapons raised, howling for blood.

Kale moved with practiced precision. He parried the next attacker with one sword, sidestepping as he simultaneously drove the other into the man's face.

From the corner of his eye, Kale caught movement—the woman in thorny armor closing in on him. But before she could reach him, a spear of crackling energy shot past his shoulder, its sharp hum slicing through the air. Sadek's voice boomed over the chaos, a battle cry like rolling thunder.

The spear flew true, straight toward the thorny-armored woman. She moved with uncanny speed and caught the spear mid-flight. Her lips twisted into a cruel grin, triumph flashing in her eyes.

That grin faltered as Sadek raised his arm and cast Lightning Resurgence. The spear dissolved in her grasp, transforming into a surge of crackling electricity that blasted back toward its master in a brilliant arc of light.

The wave of energy tore through the warriors in its path, disintegrating them where they stood, their bodies reduced to ash. The spear reformed in Sadek's hand, humming with renewed power as though it had never left him. The woman staggered slightly, her armor sparking and smoldering where the lightning had struck. She snarled, ichor dripping from her mouth, the green-black liquid sizzling as it hit the ground. The attack only seemed to annoy her, since her expression looked more irritated than pained.

At the same time, Namara was locked in combat with the other woman—or, more accurately, she was having far too much fun to take it seriously. The woman lunged at her, claws extended, face twisted in rage. Namara stepped back with playful grace.

She flicked her hand, and translucent, wailing souls materialized before diving into the ground. A moment later, they erupted from the earth behind the woman, their hollow cries piercing the air as they latched onto her legs. Their hands wrapped tightly around her ankles, yanking her out of the air and slamming her into the ground.

Namara laughed, clapping her hands together. "Oh dear, you fell," she said mockingly, tilting her head. "Clumsy!"

The woman snarled, anger radiating off her. Her claws slashed through the ghostly souls, tearing them apart in wisps of dark energy that dissolved into the air. She got back to her feet, fuming, but Namara only smiled, clearly enjoying the game.

"You think this is funny?" the woman growled.

Namara's smile widened. "You move like a drunk cow. Of course it's funny!"

The woman's face contorted with rage, her claws flexing as she prepared to attack again.

"I'm going to cut that smile off your face."

Namara let out an exaggerated gasp, covering her mouth with one hand. "Scary!"

The woman jumped to the side, vanishing into a shadow on the ground. Namara's expression didn't change. Without looking, she reached into the shadows behind her, her hand plunging into the darkness like it was water.

She pulled the woman out by her throat, her grip firm but almost casual as she lifted her slightly off the ground. "Oh, little shadowfang," she said. "So incredibly dull and predictable. You're supposed to be scary assassins, haven't you heard?"

The woman clawed at Namara's arm, but wherever her claws struck, translucent souls materialized, their anguished wails filling the air as they absorbed the blows. Each attack dissolved into nothingness, the ghostly forms vanishing as quickly as they appeared.

Namara sighed, shaking her head. "I was promised a smile removal. And yet—" she gestured to her lips, still curled in amusement. "Here we are."

The woman's expression twisted from anger to frustration. But Namara's smile only widened, as if daring her to keep trying.

It seemed the thorny-armored woman had noticed her struggling companion, and she bolted past Kale and Sadek toward Namara.

Namara didn't turn, but her violet eyes gleamed knowingly. She sniffed the air. "Hmmm… a viridian fury, isn't she?" she asked casually, tilting her head toward the woman she still held by the throat.

The viridian fury said something under her breath, too low to catch, as her body twisted grotesquely. More thorns erupted from her armor, growing larger and sharper, their jagged points gleaming with an unnatural sheen. The ground trembled beneath her, and suddenly, a massive vine burst forth, coiling and pushing her forward with incredible speed, like a javelin aimed straight at Namara.

Namara's expression barely shifted as she turned back to the woman in her grip. "Oops," she said lightly, and with a casual flick of her arm, she threw the struggling shadowfang directly into the oncoming charge.

The viridian fury couldn't stop in time, her body slamming into her companion with brutal force. The thorns pierced through the shadowfang's torso, tearing flesh and armor as black ichor sprayed everywhere. The shadowfang's body convulsed, her limbs flailing helplessly as the thorns drove deeper, shattering bone and rupturing organs with wet, visceral pops.

The sheer force sent them both tumbling, the shadowfang skewered like a piece of meat. They crashed into the ground in a tangled, bloodied heap, leaving a streak of ichor and gore across the dirt as the shadowfang twitched weakly, impaled and gasping.

Namara floated back leisurely. "My, my, you've made quite a mess."

The viridian fury exhaled sharply as the thorns retracted with a wet sucking noise. The shadowfang's limp body slid from the spikes and fell to the ground. For a moment, she regarded the mess with cold detachment. She straightened, and brushed a splatter of ichor from her armor.

"I must say," Namara said, catching a warrior who had foolishly lunged at her. With a simple motion, she tore his soul from his body, leaving him to collapse at her feet. "This was a pretty fun welcoming party! Too bad it's over already."

The fury met Namara's gaze. "Oh, but the party is just getting started."

Namara arched an eyebrow. "Then by all means—entertain me."

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